Ijillllli 

--  :   fit  ;  , 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 


A    PRINCESS    OF 
ARCADY 


BY 

ARTHUR   HENRY 


NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,   PAGE  &  CO. 
1903 


COPYRIGHT,  1900,  BY 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY. 


Nortooob 

J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  -  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


tfjts  storg  10 
ANNA  T.   MALLON 

ON   WHOSE  ATTITUDE  TOWARD    HER  OWN   CONVENT 
LIFE  WAS    FOUNDED  THE  CONVENT  OF   "  OUR   LADY 

OF  PEACE" 


A   PRINCESS   OF 
ARCADY 

CHAPTER    I 

AN  island  of  a  hundred  acres — Pilliod's 
Island.  He  called  it  his  little  France.  On 
one  side  it  rose  abruptly  eight  feet  from  the 
river,  and  on  the  other,  the  water,  when  at 
high  tide,  rippled  over  its  green  surface. 
From  this  marshy  border  rose  a  tangled 
growth  of  reeds  and  swamp  grasses,  elder- 
berry bushes,  and  flaming  weeds  and  wild 
flowers.  It  was  a  great  opal  of  an  island, 
rich  in  colour,  that  changed  not  only  with 
the  seasons,  but  with  every  hour,  as  the  sun- 
shine or  the  clouds  passed  over  it.  The 
high  banks  of  the  river  swept  in  a  wide 
circle  about  it.  There  was  a  suggestion  of 
pride  and  protection  in  the  lines  of  the  sur- 
rounding shores,  as  if  they  were  saying  to 
any  one  who  could  interpret  their  language, 
"Would  you  see  a  few  acres  of  Paradise? 


2  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

Then  look  over  at  our  little  island  here. 
Even  God  can  make  nothing  more  beau- 
tiful." 

At  one  end  was  the  vineyard  where  every 
year  the  grapes  swelled  to  great  purple 
globes  of  juice.  In  the  early  spring,  as 
soon  as  the  snow  vanished,  the  whole  island 
donned  a  garment  of  light  green  while  the 
fields  of  the  surrounding  high  lands  were 
still  cold  and  bare.  Then,  day  by  day,  just 
by  going  to  the  edge  of  the  bluff  and  look- 
ing down,  you  would  see  the  lines  forming 
which  divided  the  corn,  the  wheat,  the  oats, 
and  the  hayfields  into  squares  of  different 
shades.  As  the  harvest  approached,  you 
could  see  a  counterpane  of  gorgeous  patches, 
for  then  the  wheat  was  a  mass  of  shining 
yellow,  except  where  the  shadow  of  a  cloud 
was  moving ;  the  oats  had  a  russet  tinge,  the 
corn  was  a  deep  rich  green,  and  in  the 
motley  of  the  hayfields  purple  and  grey 
prevailed,  with  here  and  there  a  patch  of 
wild  mustard  or  a  stalk  of  mullein. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  river  stands  the 
village  of  Maumee,  and  directly  across,  a 
mile  away,  is  Perrysburg.  These  villages 
lie  close  to  the  river  and  watch  each  other 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  3 

across  the  island  with  a  drowsy  jealousy. 
It  is  the  kind  of  jealousy  that  harms  no 
one. 

When  the  Angelus  is  sounded  at  morning, 
noon,  and  sunset,  the  bell-ringers  of  the  two 
villages  so  time  their  strokes  that  the  chime 
of  one  seems  like  the  far-off  echo  of  the 
other. 

One  morning  in  early  spring,  Minot  Alex- 
ander stood  upon  the  bluff  overlooking  the 
island.  He  saw  old  Jean  Pilliod  carefully 
picking  his  way  along  the  well-worn  path 
down  the  hillside.  His  feet  were  bare,  and 
his  blue  jean  trousers  were  rolled  part  way 
to  his  knees.  His  thick  hair,  perfectly  white, 
fell  to  his  shoulders.  Although  he  walked 
with  the  precaution  which  comes  with  age, 
he  seemed  a  sturdy  figure.  Mr.  Alexander 
watched  him  until  he  reached  the  raft 
moored  to  the  bank,  which  took  him  to  and 
from  his  island,  and  then,  upon  an  impulse, 
he  called  to  him.  Receiving  no  response, 
he  remembered  that  old  Pilliod  was  growing 
deaf.  He  looked  at  the  steep  bank  before 
him,  with  the  first  intention  of  scrambling 
down  it,  and  laughed  as  he  remembered  that 
he,  too,  was  growing  old.  He  hurried  to  the 


4  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

path,  and  descending  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
came  upon  old  Pilliod  just  as  he  was  push- 
ing off. 

"  Take  me  with  you,"  he  called. 

The  other,  hearing  him,  now  looked  up 
and  peered  at  him  a  moment  from  a  pair  of 
bright  eyes  that  twinkled  from  beneath  his 
heavy  grey  brows. 

"  Well,  well,"  he  said,  "  you  are  here  again. 
You  come  as  regularly  in  the  spring  as  the 
swallows." 

He  pushed  back  to  the  shore  and  helped 
his  old  friend  aboard. 

Any  one  noticing  the  hands  of  the  two 
as  they  clasped  would  know  at  once  how 
far  removed  were  the  worlds  in  which 
they  toiled. 

Old  Jean  Pilliod's  were  twisted  and  hard 
as  a  well-seasoned  apple  bough.  He  seized 
his  pole  and  skilfully  pushed  the  raft  from 
the  island.  He  knew  all  the  tricks  of  the 
current,  and  they  no  longer  seemed  malicious 
to  him,  but  more  like  the  eccentricities  of  a 
friend  whom  we  have  learned  to  live  with. 

Minot  watched  him  in  silence  for  a 
moment,  and  then  he  said :  — 

"  This  is  a  fine   life   you  lead.     When  I 


A   PRINCESS   OF   A&CADY  5 

come  to  the  country,  I  wish  that  I  might 
never  leave  it." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  fingers  like  these  ? " 
said  old  Jean  Pilliod,  holding  out  one  of  his 
hands,  bent  and  stiff.  "  And  then,  too,  you 
see  my  back  is  crooked.  That's  what  comes 
from  working  in  the  fields." 

Minot  smiled,  but  said  nothing.  No  one 
could  be  more  careful  of  his  personal  appear- 
ance than  he,  and  yet  it  signified  nothing  to 
him.  Every  day  he  conducted  the  affairs  of 
his  business  carefully,  adding  something  to 
his  fortune ;  but  this  was  a  matter  of  course, 
and  he  had  long  since  ceased  to  take  any 
interest  in  it.  It  meant  nothing  to  him. 
The  money  that  he  accumulated  he  had  no 
desire  to  spend,  for  he  was  alone  in  the 
world. 

When  they  reached  the  island,  they  sepa- 
rated, and  Jean  Pilliod  trudged  off  to  his 
fields.  Minot  Alexander  had  no  other  pur- 
pose than  to  spend  an  aimless,  pleasant  day. 
As  he  was  walking  along  the  marshy  border, 
his  attention  was  caught  by  a  bright  pink 
blossom  which  seemed  unusual  to  him. 

"  I  will  get  that,"  he  said,  "  and  ask  Chris- 
topher Mott  what  it  is." 


6  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

The  blossom,  however,  was  just  out  of  his 
reach.  He  could  approach  no  nearer  with- 
out sinking  into  the  marsh. 

He  cut  a  stout  branch  from  a  bush,  and 
with  a  swift  stroke  severed  the  blossom  from 
its  stalk  and  brought  it  to  his  feet.  It  hap- 
pened that  at  that  moment  a  bee  was  delving 
in  the  blossom,  and  outraged  by  the  death 
of  its  mistress,  it  flew  fiercely  about  his  head. 

Mr.  Alexander,  surprised  at  the  sudden 
attack,  attempted  in  vain  to  defend  himself, 
but  the  bee  would  not  be  frightened  off. 
Mr.  Alexander  took  to  his  heels.  He  sped 
across  the  field,  waving  his  arms  with  the 
most  undignified  vehemence.  Freed  from 
his  pursuer,  he  continued  his  flight  for  a  few 
moments  in  pure  enjoyment  of  the  exhila- 
ration it  brought  him.  The  adventure  had 
made  him  feel  something  of  a  boy  again. 
He  stopped  abruptly,  however,  when  he  saw 
immediately  in  his  path  two  children  in  an 
attitude  of  fright.  A  slender  little  boy  was 
standing  boldly  upright,  courageous  and  ter- 
ror-stricken, while  crouching  behind  him  was 
a  little  girl.  Her  hands  were  clutching  the 
boy's  coat  desperately,  and  her  bright  eyes 
were  fixed  in  an  agony  of  alarm  upon  what 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  7 

must  have  seemed  to  her  a  destroying  mon- 
ster. Mr.  Alexander  stood  quietly  before 
them  for  a  moment,  and  looked  down  upon 
them,  smiling  kindly. 

u  Don't  be  frightened,  little  ones,"  he  said ; 
"  I  would  not  harm  you  for  the  world." 

He  looked  as  he  spoke  into  the  eyes  of 
the  little  girl,  and  her  face  at  once  brightened, 
flushed  with  the  colour  that  was  natural  to 
it,  and  broke  into  dimples  as  she  smiled. 

"  That's  right,"  he  said ;  "  you  must  not  be 
afraid  of  me,  for  I  was  just  looking  for  some 
one  to  play  with." 

The  child  laughed,  a  little  nervously,  it  is 
true,  and,  stepping  nearer,  she  looked  up  into 
his  face  and  said :  — 

"  You  would  not  hurt  us,  would  you  ?  I 
really  wasn't  very  much  afraid,  but  you  were 
so  big,  you  know,  and  you  did  look  terrible." 

"  I  wasn't  afraid  at  all,"  said  the  boy.  "  I 
knew  you  were  only  trying  to  frighten  us." 

"  Oh  no,  it  wasn't  that,"  said  Mr.  Alexander. 
"  I  was  only  running  away  from  a  great  big 
bee  ;  so  you  see  I  am  the  only  coward  here." 

"Are  you  afraid  of  bees?"  said  the  boy? 
contemptuously.  "  They  won't  hurt  any  one." 

"  Sometimes  they  do,"  said  the  little  girl, 


8  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

as  if  trying  to  make  matters  more  easy  for 
her  new  friend.  The  boy  seemed  to  catch 
the  spirit  of  this  apology,  and  said,  with  a 
touch  of  patronage,  that  he  was  afraid  of 
snakes.  The  girl,  as  if  recognizing  that  this 
was  a  good  time  to  drop  the  subject,  cried 
with  a  pretty  air  of  affected  grief  :  — 

"  See,  I  have  dropped  all  my  flowers." 

"  So  you  have,"  said  Mr.  Alexander,  and 
they  all  three  began  hastily  to  gather  the 
scattered  buttercups  and  dandelions  and 
spring  beauties  that  lay  upon  the  ground. 

"  I  have  never  seen  you  before,"  said  the 
little  girl.  "  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  In  the  city,"  he  replied;  "  in  the  big  city 
down  the  river." 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  the  boy,  in  a  long  note 
of  awe  as  he  looked  toward  the  steeples  and 
the  vague  outlines  of  the  tall  buildings  that 
could  be  faintly  discerned  in  the  distance. 

Mr.  Alexander  caught  the  expression  of 
his  face,  and  it  sent  a  pang  through  his  heart. 
He  looked  toward  the  city,  and  for  a  moment 
as  if  seeing  it  through  the  eyes  of  the  boy,  its 
outlines,  softened  through  the  blue  mist,  took 
fantastic  shapes.  It  became  to  him  also  a 
mirage  of  fairyland.  Oh,  he  thought  if  he 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  9 

could  but  again  see  the  world  with  the  wist- 
ful eyes  of  his  youth. 

The  little  girl  said,  with  a  sigh  of  relief: 
"  I  am  so  glad.  I  thought  when  I  first  saw 
you  that  you  had  at  last  come  from  that  big 
house  way  over  there,"  pointing  to  a  distant 
building  on  the  mainland ;  "  for  that,  you 
know,  is  where  the  ogre  lives." 

"  The  ogre  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Alexander. 
"  What  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

u  Oh,"  said  the  girl,  looking  at  him  gravely, 
"  my  mamma  says  so,  and  she  says  if  ever  I 
am  out  alone  at  night,  that  he  will  get  me." 

"  Humph  !  "  was  all  that  Mr.  Alexander 
answered,  for  he  did  not  know  how  far  he 
could  venture  with  a  mother's  discipline,  but 
it  seemed  to  him  a  pity  that  so  sunny  a  little 
soul  should  be  unnecessarily  troubled  with 
fears.  "  I  should  think,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  that  there  are  enough  real  cares  to  contend 
with  without  creating  imaginary  ones." 

"  I  have  been  to  the  city  once,"  said  the 
boy,  "  and  some  day  when  I  am  big  I  will 
live  there,  too." 

"  Would  you  rather  —  "  he  stopped,  say- 
ing to  himself  that  he  would  not  be  the  one 
to  destroy  an  illusion.  Turning  to  the  girl, 


10  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

he  asked,  "  Would  you  like  to  live  in  the 
city,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  if  ever  the  prince 
should  come  to  marry  me.  Pierre  says  he  is 
going  to  be  the  prince  some  day  when  he  is 
big,  and  then  I  will  go  and  live  with  him  in 
one  of  those  palaces  there." 

"  But  ar'n't  you  happy  here  in  these  pretty 
green  fields,  with  so  many  flowers  for  you  to 
pick,  and  the  birds  to  sing  to  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  "  but  I  am  only  a  little 
girl  now,  and  Pierre  is  here  to  play  with  me, 
but  when  he  goes,  I  must  go  too." 

Mr.  Alexander  learned  that  the  boy  was  a 
grandson  of  old  Jean  Pilliod,  and  that  the 
man  following  sturdily  behind  the  plough  in 
one  of  the  fields  was  his  father.  The  girl 
was  a  daughter  of  a  fisherman  who  occupied 
a  little  hut  at  one  end  of  the  island.  Her 
mother  was  sick,  and  it  was  for  her  the  flowers 
had  been  gathered.  He  knew  at  once  how 
poor  and  commonplace  must  be  the  life  await- 
ing her,  and  he  looked  with  pity  upon  her 
bright  and  eager  face  as  he  thought  what 
desolate  realities  would  come  to  her  in  place 
of  her  fancies.  It  could  only  be  some  worth- 
less fellow  who  would  lead  the  life  of  a  fisher- 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  n 

man  along  this  river,  which  had  long  since 
ceased  to  supply  a  product  sufficient  for  the 
market.  Her  father  must  be  some  ne'er-do- 
well,  who,  by  occasional  jobs  that  could  be 
handled  without  too  much  effort,  and  the 
small  catch  which  would  come  from  a  day's 
fishing,  managed  just  to  live.  He  thought  of 
his  own  wealth,  and  how  useless  it  was,  and 
wondered  vaguely  if  it  would  be  possible  for 
him,  had  he  a  little  girl  like  this,  to  make  her 
dreams  come  true. 

At  noon,  the  Angelus  again  sounded,  and 
the  bells  from  the  two  villages  floating  over 
the  island  blended  in  an  indescribably  soft 
melody. 

Mr.  Alexander  heard  the  voice  of  Jean 
Pilliod  calling  to  him  as  he  trudged  toward 
the  house  for  dinner. 

The  little  girl  took  his  hand  and  said 
eagerly,  "  Don't  go  away.  Won't  you  come 
with  me  ?  " 

"  But,"  said  he,  hesitating,  "  if  your  mamma 
is  sick,  I  shall  trouble  her." 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said,  "  I  will  have  two  little 
fish  for  my  dinner,  and  you  may  have  one  of 
them." 

He  sent  word  by  the  boy,  and  went  with 


12  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

the  little  girl  to  the  hut.  He  found  it  to  be 
a  place  of  two  small  rooms.  A  pan  of  fish 
was  sputtering  upon  the  stove,  and  by  it,  on 
a  rough  hand-made  chair,  sat  a  woman  very 
pale  and  thin.  He  was  startled  by  her  appear- 
ance. Her  eyes  were  closed,  and  her  hands 
were  hanging  listlessly  by  her  side.  She  did 
not  seem  to  breathe,  and  her  lifeless  face  wore 
the  fixed  and  yet  tranquil  expression  which 
sometimes  follows  death.  The  little  girl 
ran  to  her,  and  laying  the  flowers  in  her  lap, 
whispered :  — 

"  Look,  mamma,  at  the  man  I  brought 
you.  He  lives  in  the  city." 

The  woman,  a  little  startled,  looked  up, 
and  her  cheeks  became  flushed  for  a 
moment. 

"  Your  little  daughter,"  said  Mr.  Alexan- 
der, "and  I  have  been  playing  together  all 
the  morning,  and  she  has  promised  me  one 
of  her  fish  for  my  dinner.  I  hope  I  shall  not 
trouble  you." 

He  paused  for  a  moment  in  some  embar- 
rassment, hardly  knowing  what  excuse  to 
offer  for  his  intrusion. 

He  had  thought  it  possible  that  he  might 
receive  a  rough  welcome,  and,  if  so,  he 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  13 

had  hoped  to  make  amends  with  a  little 
money. 

He  found  himself  in  the  presence  of  gen- 
tleness and  misery,  which  seized  powerfully 
upon  his  sympathies,  and  yet  made  him  al- 
most ashamed  of  being  there. 

"  I  am  Mr.  Alexander,"  he  said  presently, 
as  the  woman  still  looked  at  him  in  some 
confusion,  "  a  friend  of  Jean  Pilliod's.  I 
hardly  know  why  I  came,  except  that  your 
little  girl  seemed  anxious  to  have  me." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered  brightly.  "  I  was 
afraid  at  first  he  was  the  ogre,  but  he  turned 
out  to  be  the  nicest  man." 

"  I  am  sure,"  said  the  mother,  "  I  am  glad 
that  you  came  with  Hilda."  She  added  with 
a  pitiful  laugh,  which  seemed  to  be  the 
shadow  of  a  once  merry  temperament : 
"  You  see,  you  are  really  too  late  to  put  me 
to  any  trouble,  for  my  dinner  is  all  ready  to 
serve."  Turning  to  Hilda,  she  said  gently, 
"  You  will  have  to  hurry,  daughter,  for  the 
fish  are  almost  done,  and  the  table  isn't  set." 

Hilda  went  at  once  to  one  corner  of  the 
room  which  was  evidently  devoted  to  her  own 
use.  Here  was  a  little  box  that  served  as  a 
toilet  table.  It  was  covered  with  bright, 


14  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

clean  paper,  tacked  neatly  to  the  sides.  On 
the  top  was  spread  a  clean  towel  which  had 
been  elaborately  fringed  and  bordered  with 
a  faded  ribbon.  On  it  was  a  small  basin  and 
pitcher  of  tinware,  painted  blue,  and  above 
was  a  fragment  of  a  mirror  suspended  by  a 
crocheted  net  that  partially  enclosed  it. 
There  was  something,  at  the  same  time, 
very  dainty  and  very  pitiful  in  the  aspect  of 
this  corner.  Odds  and  ends  of  different  col- 
oured ribbon,  bits  of  cheap  lace  and  embroid- 
ery that  might  have  been  picked  from  a  scrap 
basket,  had  been  utilized  as  adornment. 

"  If  you  would  like  to  use  it,"  said  the 
woman,  "  there  is  a  wash-basin  on  the  bench 
outside." 

"  No,  no,"  cried  the  little  girl,  who  had 
already  finished  her  toilet,  "  I  want  him  to 
use  mine."  She  seemed,  in  fact,  to  look 
upon  Mr.  Alexander  as  her  own  guest. 

There  was  something  very  childlike  and 
yet  very  old  in  her  manner  toward  him. 
She  led  him  to  her  corner,  with  a  sort  of 
gracious  eagerness.  She  poured  the  water 
for  him,  got  him  a  clean  towel  from  the  box, 
and  then  stood  by  to  see  him  wash. 

"  I  thought,"  she  said  confidentially,  "  that 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  15 

you  had  rather  do  it  here.  Don't  you  think 
it  is  pretty  ?  I  made  all  these  things ;  my 
mamma  showed  me  how." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Alexander;  "I  think  it's 
very  pretty.  I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a 
looking-glass  in  such  a  curious  frame  before." 

"  We  made  that  up,"  said  Hilda,  looking 
at  it  critically.  "  At  first,  I  was  very  sorry 
that  I  could  only  have  a  broken  one." 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  little  girl  who  could  make 
such  nice  things  for  me.  I  am  sure  that  is 
much  prettier  than  anything  I  can  buy." 

"And  I  wish,"  said  the  little  girl,  "that  you 
were  my  papa.  My  papa  don't  seem  to  care 
for  anything  I  do,  and  he  don't  —  " 

"  Daughter,"  came  the  reproving  voice  of 
her  mother  very  softly;  and  Mr.  Alexander 
felt  a  little  confused. 

The  girl  took  an  apron  from  her  box,  and 
asked  Mr.  Alexander  to  tie  it  on  for  her. 

In  another  corner  of  the  room  stood  a 
larger  box  which  served  as  a  china  closet. 
From  this  she  took  a  tablecloth,  and,  with 
the  aid  of  a  chair,  proceeded  to  set  the  table. 

"  The  little  one,"  said  the  mother,  u  is  my 
housekeeper.  It  is  wonderful  what  she  has 
learned  to  do.  Even  when  we  eat  alone  and 


1 6  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

have  just  fish  for  dinner,  we  have  the  table 
set.  I  want  to  teach  her  all  I  can."  She 
paused  a  moment,  and  then  added  as  if  to 
herself,  "  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  whatever 
will  become  of  her  when  I  am  gone." 

All  during  the  meal,  the  little  girl  chatted 
with  the  curious,  nervous  incoherence  of 
children  when  first  moved  by  the  desire  to 
please.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed.  She 
hardly  ate.  Her  bright  eyes  were  fixed  con- 
stantly upon  her  guest,  and  whenever  he 
looked  at  her,  she  smiled  in  her  happiness. 

When  he  left,  she  seemed  taken  entirely 
by  surprise.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her  that 
this  great  new  pleasure  was  such  a  temporary 
affair.  It  takes  children  a  long  time  to 
anticipate.  No  wonder  that  a  little  grief 
assumes  the  proportions  of  a  tragedy;  for 
them  it  has  no  end.  I  think  if  we  could 
realize  how  absolutely  the  present  moment 
is  the  child's  forever,  there  would  be  less 
punishment,  for  who  would  willingly  consign 
one  to  an  eternity  of  torment  and  despair  ? 

They  were  again  in  the  field  when  the  end 
came. 

Their  companionship  had  been  an  unusual 
experience  to  each  of  them.  In  this  case 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  17 

the  child  and  the  man  of  sixty  felt  something 
of  the  emotions  of  young  lovers  when  they 
first  meet.  This  was  so  because  Mr.  Alex- 
ander, reserved  and  conventional  in  his  out- 
ward appearance,  in  reality  lived  most  in  that 
world  of  ideals  and  dreams  where  youth  is 
perpetual  and  where  time  and  customs  are 
unknown.  His  very  gravity  and  all  his  courtly 
manners  had  been  acquired  from  the  instinct 
which  moves  all  such  men  to  place  a  barrier 
between  themselves  and  the  world  as  they 
realize  that  if  they  would  preserve  the  spirit 
of  their  youth,  and  protect  it  from  the  cyni- 
cism of  others,  they  must  conceal  it.  In  his 
little  companion  he  had  chanced  upon  a  per- 
fect type  of  the  purely  feminine.  Here  were 
all  the  traits  in  embryo  which,  when  preserved 
and  developed,  make  the  ideal  woman  who  is, 
above  all  things,  sympathetic  and  receptive, 
one  in  whom  the  very  assumption  of  an  in- 
terest possesses  a  more  seductive  charm  than 
the  violent  passion  of  others ;  whose  sins 
seem  more  innocent  than  the  virtues  of  aus- 
terity. Such  women  have  inspired,  without 
design,  the  achievements  which  have  made 
epochs  and  kingdoms  famous  when  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  throne  alone  would  have  failed. 


1 8  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

It  is  in  the  eyes  of  such  that  the  poet  must 
look  for  his  revelations.  They  seem  to  be 
the  unconscious  repositories  of  nature.  Their 
souls  are  her  secret  laboratories,  her  studios, 
her  hidden  places,  wherein,  undisturbed,  she 
works  her  masterpieces. 

Mr.  Alexander  felt  the  tenderest  and  purest 
delight  in  the  effort  to  become  one  with  the 
little  girl.  And  she,  less  conscious  of  them, 
perhaps,  than  he,  was  prompted  by  the  same 
design,  and  felt  something  of  the  same  emo- 
tions. He  was  a  little  less  pompous,  and  she 
was  much  more  so.  It  was  curious  to  see 
how,  as  she  walked  with  him,  she  attempted 
vainly  to  follow  his  longer  stride.  Her  man- 
ner was  a  quaint  reflection  of  his.  In  all 
that  she  said  there  was  a  very  apparent  effort 
to  voice  what  she  fancied  must  be  his  point 
of  view.  She  looked  about  her  for  new 
impressions,  carefully  selecting  the  longest 
words  in  her  vocabulary,  and  sought  con- 
stantly to  repress  the  vagrant  impulses  that 
had  never  before  been  restrained.  She  at- 
tempted to  express  herself  judiciously.  The 
fact  that  her  little  mind  was  unusually  excited 
and  alert  at  the  very  moment  when  she  was 
attempting  to  subject  it  to  the  control  of 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  19 

unaccustomed  influences,  produced  at  times 
the  most  astonishing  results. 

Everything  she  saw  was  enlarged  or  con- 
torted because  of  this  very  excitement  of 
her  senses.  Yielding  to  her  first  impulse, 
she  would  call  his  attention  to  what  she  saw 
or  fancied  with  the  extravagant  gestures  and 
exclamations  of  a  child,  but  remembering 
the  new  part  she  had  to  play,  she  would 
instantly  subdue  her  manner  and  seek  to 
qualify  her  statements,  becoming  involved 
at  times  in  a  hopeless  tangle  of  words.  Some- 
times she  would  hesitate  in  her  embarrass- 
ment, and  look  furtively  up  into  his  face. 
He  would  nod  his  head  as  if  assuring  her 
that  he  understood  and  finish  her  sentence 
for  her,  and  while  it  might  be  as  illogi- 
cal as  her  own,  since  there  was  really  no 
thought  to  express,  his  manner  reassured  her, 
and  she  was  again  composed.  She  wished 
to  please  him,  that  was  all.  Suddenly  was 
heard  the  voice  of  Jean  Pilliod,  about  to 
return  to  the  mainland. 

"  And  now,"  said  Mr.  Alexander,  "  I  must 

go-" 

She  stopped  abruptly,  and  looked  question- 
ingly  up  into  his  face.  The  little  artificial 


20  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

smile  which  she  had  been  rapidly  acquiring 
in  her  effort  of  politeness  was  suspended  as 
it  were  amid  the  wreck  of  her  happiness. 
Then  as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  her,  and 
said  good-by,  all  her  assumptions  vanished, 
and  she  became  at  once  a  woe-begone  little 
child,  protesting  and  anxious. 

"  Don't  go,"  she  said,  her  lips  trembling, 
and  the  tears  rising  quickly  to  her  eyes. 

"  But  I  must,"  said  he,  picking  her  up  in 
his  arms.  "  You  must  not  cry.  Just  think 
what  a  nice  day  we  have  had,  and  I  will  come 
and  see  you  again." 

She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
clung  to  him,  repeating  over  and  over  again, 
with  all  the  unreasonable  persistence  and 
impatience  of  her  age :  "  Don't  go  !  Don't 
go  !  I  don't  want  you  to  go.  Please,  please 
don't  go." 

He  put  her  down  as  gently  as  he  could, 
and  then,  into  her  troubled  heart  there  crept 
a  feeling  of  humiliation.  The  memory  of 
what  she  had  tried  to  be  made  her  ashamed 
of  her  tears. 

There  was  a  mingling  of  anxiety,  pleading 
apology,  and  shyness  in  the  smile  that  trem- 
bled on  her  lips  and  in  her  tearful  eyes  as 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  21 

she  stood  looking  at  him.  She  put  her  finger 
to  her  mouth  and,  turning  her  body  this  way 
and  that,  said  slowly,  with  an  effort  not  to 
cry,  "  Please  don't  go." 

He  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  her. 
He  realized  that  argument  would  be  thrown 
away.  His  heart  responded  to  the  affection  of 
the  child,  and  it  was  with  an  unwonted  mois- 
ture in  his  own  eyes  that  he  turned  away. 

When  she  saw  that  in  spite  of  everything 
she  could  do,  he  had  left  her,  she  turned 
abruptly  and  ran  as  fast  as  she  could  in  the 
opposite  direction.  She  did  not  know  where 
she  was  running.  She  did  not  care  where 
she  went.  She  wanted  only  to  get  away  from 
the  mysterious  trouble  that  beset  her. 

When  Mr.  Alexander  was  again  upon  the 
raft  with  Jean  Pilliod,  he  asked  him  concern- 
ing the  little  girl  and  her  parents,  and  found 
that  her  father  was  all  that  he  had  feared. 
He  was  not  harsh  or  positively  evil.  He 
rather  lacked  good  qualities  than  possessed 
vices.  Among  the  loungers  around  the  hotel 
of  the  village  or  in  the  society  that  gathered 
on  the  sidewalk  of  a  summer's  evening  before 
the  stores,  he  was  the  best  of  company.  He 
seldom  drank  to  excess,  and  if  he  did,  it  only 


22  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

served  to  liberate  a  merry  and  good-natured 
spirit.  At  other  times,  he  was  quiet  and 
rather  subdued.  He  could  sit  all  day  in  his 
boat,  anchored  in  the  midst  of  the  stream, 
beneath  a  blazing  sun,  and  fish,  taking  his 
good  fortune  and  his  bad  with  indifference. 
If  his  catch  were  good,  he  would  take  it  to 
the  village,  spend  his  money  liberally  as  long 
as  it  lasted,  and  return  to  his  hut  late  at  night, 
troubled  with  a  genuine  regret  that  he  had 
not  had  enough  for  the  things  he  knew  were 
necessary  to  the  comfort  of  his  family.  His 
wife  had  married  him  when  she  was  a  young 
girl,  affectionate  and  simple-minded,  and  had 
lived  her  life  apparently  without  even  a 
thought  of  discontent.  She  was  by  nature 
a  good  wife  and  mother,  one  of  those  who 
respond  quickly  to  whatever  surrounds  them; 
who  give  without  any  consideration  of  self- 
interest  all  they  possess  to  the  first  love 
that  is  offered.  Had  this  come  to  her  in 
the  person  of  a  noble  lover,  she  would  have 
become  a  beautiful  woman.  She  was  dying 
from  privation  of  soul  and  body,  but  she  had 
no  anxiety  for  herself ;  no  complaint  against 
her  lot.  She  never  compared  her  life  with 
what  it  might  have  been.  It  was  not  her 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  23 

imagination  that  made  her  fear  for  her  daugh- 
ter, but  the  tender  heart  of  a  mother  quaking 
at  a  thousand  threatening  evils  rising  half 
formed  and  scarcely  recognized  from  her  own 
experiences. 

When  the  two  men  had  crossed  the  river 
and  ascended  the  bank  upon  the  other  side, 
they  turned  of  one  accord  to  look  back  upon 
the  island.  This  final  glance  backward  had 
become  a  habit  with  Jean  Pilliod.  His  eyes 
were  still  very  bright,  but  his  sight  was  grow- 
ing dim,  so  that  he  could  scarcely  distinguish 
an  object  fifty  feet  from  him. 

"  I  will  wait  here,"  said  Mr.  Alexander, 
"until  the  vespers  ring."  Jean  Pilliod  smiled 
and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  don't  need  to  wait  for  the  bell-ringers 
any  longer.  Since  I  have  grown  deaf,  I  hear 
them  all  the  time." 

"  Can  you  still  see  across  your  island  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can  see  much  farther  than  that 
now.  It  becomes  clearer  every  day,  and  I 
seem  to  see  much  that  escaped  me  when  my 
sight  was  good." 

They  laughed  together,  for  Minot  Alexan- 
der understood  what  he  meant. 

Jean  Pilliod  trudged  away  between  the  two 


24  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

lines  of  thorny  locusts  that  lined  the  path 
leading  to  the  village,  and  Mr.  Alexander 
found  a  comfortable  slope  on  the  edge  of  the 
bluff,  where  he  might  recline  while  waiting 
for  the  vespers.  It  was  that  time  of  the  day 
when  two-thirds  of  the  earth  lies  in  shadow. 
The  sunlight  seen  in  patches  seemed  even 
more  brilliant  than  when  falling  in  an  un- 
broken flood  upon  the  earth  at  midday.  At 
this  time,  the  light,  no  longer  glaring,  glows, 
wherever  it  touches,  with  a  pure,  soft  brill- 
iance. The  shadow  of  the  banks  slowly 
extended  across  the  river;  the  green  of  the 
island  grew  softer,  deeper,  and  more  alluring. 
All  the  light  left  the  valley,  except  far  down 
the  river  where  it  shone  and  sparkled  like 
some  radiant  creature  just  poising  for  its 
flight. 

Then  from  the  village  behind  him  came 
the  first  solemn  peal  of  a  bell,  full  and  mel- 
low, a  deep  and  fitting  voice  for  the  twilight 
and  the  scene.  As  it  floated  over  the  river, 
it  gave  expression  to  the  beauty  everywhere, 
and  brought  him  satisfaction  and  content. 
He  closed  his  eyes  and  listened.  A  peace- 
ful silence  followed,  and  then  came  the  answer 
from  a  bell  across  the  river.  It  was  only  a 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  25 

single  note  that  reached  him,  dying  with  the 
spent  breeze  that  bore  it.  It  was  faint  and 
clear,  and  of  so  pure  and  sweet  a  tone,  that 
it  might  have  been  struck  from  a  bell  in  the 
belfries  of  fairyland.  Again  and  again  the 
deep  voice  behind  him  filled  the  air  with  its 
melody,  and  the  faint  reply  fell  from  the 
silence  that  followed  like  a  pearl  of  sound. 
When  it  was  over,  he  remained  for  a  moment 
watching  the  last  of  the  light  as  it  blazed  on 
the  point  of  the  spire  of  the  Church  of  Our 
Lady,  standing  near  the  bluff  of  the  river 
in  Perrysburg.  When  this  had  passed  and 
twinkling  lights  began  to  appear  in  the  vil- 
lage, he  rose  to  leave.  As  he  walked  along 
the  bank,  he  saw,  close  to  the  edge,  the  tall 
figure  of  a  young  priest.  His  arms  were 
folded,  his  head  was  bowed.  He  was  repeat- 
ing a  poem,  but  so  softly  that  only  the  pleas- 
ant murmur  of  his  voice  could  be  heard. 
Mr.  Alexander  recognized  Father  L'Amora, 
the  curate  of  the  Church  of  Our  Lady. 

"  Good  evening,"  he  said.  The  priest 
looked  up  and  smiled. 

"  Do  you  just  happen  to  be  here,"  he  said, 
"  or  have  you  also  come  on  purpose  ?  " 

"  I  have  walked  all  the  way  from  the  city, 


26  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

twelve  miles,  to  look  at  the  island  and  the 
river,  and  to  hear  the  bells." 

"  The  strange  thing  is,"  replied  the  priest, 
"  that  your  doing  so  should  seem  strange. 
To  think  that  you  alone  from  a  city  of  a 
hundred  thousand  should  have  come  !  " 

"  But  why  are  you  here  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Alex- 
ander. "  Do  you  find  this  view  better  than 
your  own  from  Perrysburg?  " 

"  When  the  wind  is  blowing  from  the  east, 
I  must  come  over  here  to  get  the  full  effect 
of  the  bells.  I  often  wonder  what  need  the 
church  can  have  for  its  priests.  These  bells 
are  the  true  ministers  of  religion." 

He  turned  again  to  the  view  before  him, 
and,  stretching  his  arm  toward  the  glowing, 
dark  water  of  the  river  and  shadowy  island, 
added,  as  if  forgetting  the  presence  of 
another :  — 

"  Oh,  how  can  men  live  in  the  midst  of 
such  beauty  and  still  do  evil?  Even  here, 
there  is  suffering  and  want." 

During  the  long  walk  home,  Mr.  Alexander 
thought,  now  and  then,  of  these  words  of  the 
priest,  for  they  expressed  something  of  his 
own  reflections.  The  woman  dying  in  her 
hut  and  the  fate  of  the  little  girl  troubled 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  27 

him.  It  seemed  to  him  that  there,  of  all 
places,  life  should  be  joyous.  The  child  with 
her  flushed  cheeks,  her  bright,  expressive 
eyes,  her  sunny  and  sympathetic  nature, 
haunted  him.  He  could  almost  fancy  that 
she  was  still  walking  by  his  side,  her  hand 
in  his.  He  found  himself  smiling  at  the 
memory  of  some  quaint  observation  she 
had  made.  He  saw  her  in  the  midst  of  the 
fields,  surrounded  by  the  sunlight  and  the 
flowers,  her  hair  stirring  in  the  wind,  and 
he  thought:  — 

"  I  wish  this  little  soul  could  be  kept  pure 
and  untroubled  and  childlike ;  that  this  one 
life,  at  least,  could  be  always  joyous.  She  is 
a  true  human  flower,  a  very  blossom  of  that 
fertile  island,  fresh  and  lovely  with  the  dew 
of  the  morning  still  upon  it." 

When  he  reached  the  city,  he  went  to  his 
apartments  at  the  club.  He  ate  his  dinner 
alone,  as  was  his  custom.  When  it  was 
finished,  he  lighted  his  pipe  and  sat  for  a 
long  time  with  the  light  turned  low,  thinking 
and  smoking. 

At  last  he  took  an  envelope  from  the 
desk  beside  him  and  thoughtfully  addressed 
it  to 


28  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

SISTER  PELAGIA, 
Mother  Superior, 

Convent  of  our  Lady  of  Peace. 

Then,  taking  some  fine  note  paper  from 
one  of  the  drawers,  he  placed  it  carefully 
before  him  with  something  in  his  manner 
suggestive  of  a  caress,  and  resting  his  head 
upon  his  hand,  wrote  the  following  letter :  — 

"  DEAR  BETTY  :  I  have  this  day  met  with  a  little  girl, 
a  child  of  the  fields.  She  is  as  fresh  from  the  heart  of 
nature  as  the  tender  pink  and  white  anemones  she  was 
gathering.  Her  world  has,  so  far,  been  bounded  by  the 
placid  river  that  surrounds  the  island  where  she  lives. 
The  winds,  the  birds,  the  wild  flowers,  and  a  boy  about 
her  own  age,  as  innocent  as  she,  have  been  her  play- 
mates. 

"  I  write  to  you  after  several  years,  because  I  have 
again  spent  a  happy  day  and  my  heart  is  again  filled  with 
the  impulses,  the  dreams  of  youth  and  of  hope,  which,  in 
me,  must  always  belong  to  you. 

"  My  own  experience  has  taught  me,  and  all  that  I  see 
adds  to  the  belief,  that  sensitive  and  affectionate  beings, 
who  alone  might  experience  perfect  happiness,  are  de- 
prived of  their  birthright  by  the  haphazard  habits  of  the 
world  —  the  carelessness  of  destiny  which  allows  them  to 
become  entangled  with  the  passions  before  they  are  wise 
enough  to  understand  them.  For  such  natures  love  is  a 
flame  that  may  either  illuminate  or  consume  the  soul.  It 
separated  you  and  me  and  rendered  our  lives  lonely  and 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  29 

desolate.  It  has  brought  to  others  even  greater  disasters. 
It  is  the  greatest  of  all  the  dangers  that  threaten  the  inno- 
cent and  the  pure  in  heart.  Those  who  are  capable  of 
love  are  exposed  to  its  influence  at  an  age  when  the  civi- 
lization to  which  they  are  accountable  is  a  vast  mystery,  a 
thing  of  unknown  laws  and  customs.  Love  is  as  real  as 
the  world  is  strange.  It  is  as  foreign  to  the  laws  and 
customs  of  the  world  as  their  own  souls.  It  is  a  master, 
also,  that  takes  no  account  of  any  other  needs  of  those 
whom  it  visits.  It  possesses  the  heart  before  the  judg- 
ment is  formed,  while  the  mind  is  still  ignorant  of  itself, 
when  the  fancy  is  still  busy  with  its  far-away  flights,  before 
the  country  close  about  us  has  been  explored.  We  are 
then  like  young  birds  caught  in  a  tempest.  That  which 
should  be  the  source  of  our  happiness  becomes  the  cause 
of  our  disaster.  If,  thirty  years  ago,  you  and  I  had  known 
ourselves  or  understood  anything  of  life  or  the  world,  we 
would  not  have  been  separated  by  a  misunderstanding 
which  was  significant  only  because  of  the  intensity  of  the 
love  that  caused  it.  Perhaps  you  have  found  as  great  a 
joy  in  religion  as  love  would  have  brought  you.  The 
church  may  be  more  to  you  than  a  home  could  have 
been.  But  I  doubt  it.  As  for  me,  I  am  lonely  and  my 
life  is  empty. 

"  If  I  could,  in  some  way,  become  a  part  of  another  life 
and  be  an  instrument  in  its  happiness,  I  might  then  find 
some  satisfaction  in  my  own.  I  fancy  that  if  this  child  I 
found  to-day  could  be  surrounded  by  gentle  and  wise  af- 
fection, her  life  freed  from  anxiety  and  filled  with  interest 
and  simple  pleasure,  and  her  heart  protected  from  the 
dangers  of  a  too  youthful  passion,  she  would  become  a 
beautiful  and  a  happy  woman,  a  creature  to  delight  in. 


30  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

"  I  would  like  to  try  this  experiment,  but  how  can  I,  an 
old  bachelor,  undertake  such  a  thing?  A  young  child 
must  feel  a  thousand  needs  that  I  would  not  understand. 
How  could  I  secure  an  education  for  her  without  subject- 
ing her  to  all  that  I  would  avoid  ?  But  my  day's  adven- 
ture has  been  good  for  me  if  nothing  more  comes  from  it. 
I  have  been  happy.  I  have  had  a  pleasant  dream.  Hope 
has  revisited  my  heart  for  a  moment  at  least,  and  I  have 
once  more  been  able  to  talk  to  you." 

As  Hilda  was  running  from  her  trouble  at 
the  departure  of  Mr.  Alexander,  she  came 
upon  the  boy,  who  was  busily  carrying  the 
loose  stones  from  the  water's  edge  and  laying 
them  in  rows  on  the  summit  of  a  little  knoll. 

She  stopped  abruptly  when  she  saw  him 
and  watched  him  for  a  few  moments  in 
silence.  Then  she  slowly  approached  and 
said,  "  What  are  you  doing,  Pierre  ?  " 

"  I  am  building  a  city,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Can  I  help  you  ?  "  she  asked  wistfully ; 
for  although  Pierre  was  gentle  and  affection- 
ate toward  her  always,  and  glad  when  she 
joined  him  at  his  play,  he  seemed  also  to  be 
perfectly  happy  alone,  and  she  was  never 
quite  sure  that  he  loved  her  or  needed  her 
until  she  had  asked.  , 

"  Here  is  your  palace,"  he  replied.  "  I 
made  that  first.  You  sit  there  and  watch 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  31 

me  while  I  bring  the  stones.  This  is  to  be 
our  own  city  where  we  will  be  Prince  and 
Princess.  Anything  you  want  I  will  build 
for  you." 

He  led  her  to  the  knoll,  and  they  stepped 
over  the  wall  of  the  city.  Her  palace  was  a 
little  heap  of  rocks  that  he  had  arranged  like 
a  seat. 

"  How  nice ! "  cried  the  girl  as  she  looked 
proudly  about  and  arranged  herself,  on  the 
throne  provided  for  her,  as  best  she  could, 
considering  the  shortness  of  her  skirts  and 
her  lack  of  a  purple  robe. 

How  she  wished  and  wished  and  wished 
that  her  dress  were  long  and  full  and  flowing  ! 

In  fact,  she  wished  so  hard  for  this  that 
the  good  fairy  who  attends  to  the  wishes  of 
children  heard  and,  behold  !  presently,  as  she 
sat  upon  her  throne  in  the  midst  of  the  fields, 
her  short  gown  of  patched  cambric  was 
changed  into  a  trailing  robe  of  silk  as  green 
as  the  fresh  grass  at  her  feet.  A  cloak  of 
purple  velvet  fell  from  her  shoulders.  A 
golden  girdle  was  about  her  waist  and, 
though  she  never  once  looked  at  her  feet,  she 
knew  that  the  ugly,  thick,  black  shoes  with 
holes  in  the  toes  had  been  whisked  away  and 


32  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

in  their  place  had  come  two  crimson  slippers 
with  satin  bows,  and  silk  stockings  to  match. 
She  was  very  happy.  She  smiled  content- 
edly upon  Pierre,  as  he  brought  more 
stones,  extending  the  long  rows  or  building 
little  heaps. 

"  Shall  I  sing  to  you,"  she  asked,  "  or  shall 
I  play  for  you  upon  my  lute  ?  " 

"  Come  on,"  said  Pierre,  joyfully, "  we  will  run 
down  to  the  marsh  and  make  us  each  a  lute." 

She  jumped  up  from  her  throne  and  began 
to  scamper  away  with  him,  at  first  forgetting 
the  length  of  her  green  gown.  When  she 
remembered  this,  she  stopped  and,  catching 
up  the  dragging  train,  fastened  it  with  a 
jewelled  clasp  to  her  girdle.  This  done,  she 
chased  with  all  her  might  after  Pierre. 

When  they  reached  the  marsh,  Pierre  took 
off  his  shoes  and  stockings  and  splashing 
bravely  through  the  wet  grass  and  a  little 
way  into  the  water,  gathered  a  handful  of 
reeds  and  brought  them  to  the  land.  These 
were  quickly  converted  into  perfect  lutes,  the 
kind  that  need  neither  knowledge  nor  expe- 
rience to  play,  but  which,  when  placed  to  the 
lips  of  children,  send  forth,  of  their  own 
accord,  those  divine  melodies  and  fantastic 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  33 

airs  that  art  and  maturity,  with  their  more 
conventional  instruments,  are  forever  trying 
to  recall. 

Slowly  they  returned,  a  long  procession  of 
knights  and  ladies,  dwarfs  and  pages,  fal- 
cons flying  over-head,  hounds  straining  at  the 
leash,  their  steeds  champing  at  the  bits  and 
dangling  the  golden  chains  of  their  trap- 
pings. This  glorious  cavalcade  wound  along 
the  edge  of  the  island  and  entered  the  city 
on  the  hill  to  the  sound  of  the  lu^e,  just  as 
the  sunlight  was  lifting  from  the  fields. 

"  Oh  dear,"  said  the  girl  as  the  green 
gown  and  purple  cloak,  the  girdle,  the  slip- 
pers, and  the  stockings  vanished  with  the  sun, 
"  I  suppose  I  must  go  home." 

"  I  am  coming  back  here  to-night,"  said 
the  boy,  "  and  be  a  watchman  at  the  gate." 


CHAPTER    II 

THE  garden  and  greenhouses  of  Christo- 
pher Mott  had  once  been  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  city  in  a  hollow  near  the  old  cemetery. 
The  little  enclosure  still  left  to  him  was  all 
that  retained  any  likeness  to  the  region  as  it 
was  when  he  established  himself  there.  The 
hills  that  had  surrounded  him  had  been 
levelled,  and  buildings  had  sprung  from  the 
meadows.  The  cemetery  itself  had  disap- 
peared, except  a  few  graves  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  a  chapel  still  standing.  All  the 
rest  had  been  removed  a  few  miles  fur- 
ther out,  and  on  the  property,  stores  and 
dwelling  houses  had  been  built.  The  chapel 
was  never  used,  the  graves  about  it  were 
seldom  visited,  except  by  the  curious  or  the 
idle.  A  tall  iron  fence  separated  it  from  the 
noisy,  brazen  world  that  drove  its  bargains 
and  pursued  its  pleasures  on  either  side. 

In  the  old  days  when  the  open  fields  sur- 
rounded him  and  his  nearest  neighbours  were 

34 


A  PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  35 

the  silent  people  of  the  cemetery,  Christo- 
pher Mott  was  as  comfortable  and  prosper- 
ous as  he  wished  to  be.  You  might  fancy 
that  this  encompassing  of  the  great  city 
about  him  would  have  made  him  rich.  It 
was  his  ruin.  The  princes  of  nature  have 
ever  been  the  paupers  of  civilization.  Chris- 
topher Mott  was  one  of  those  human  beings 
who  seem  to  be  related  to  the  soil,  not  by 
their  occupations  alone,  but  by  the  ties  of 
a  natural  and  deep  affection.  He  was  not 
the  slave  of  the  earth,  but  its  child.  The 
creatures  of  his  own  garden  were  those 
younger  members  of  his  household  left  in 
his  charge.  When  he  looked  over  his  fences 
or  strolled  occasionally  through  the  fields, 
all  that  grew  about  him  appealed  to  him  as 
the  more  distant  members  of  his  family.  He 
did  not  feel  the  sense  of  responsibility,  nor 
the  same  degree  of  personal  interest  in  them 
that  he  did  in  the  plants  of  his  garden,  but 
his  affection  for  them  was  of  the  same  nature. 
He  lived  alone  with  his  daughter.  His  wife, 
whom  he  had  loved  as  happily  as  though  she 
had  been  a  geranium  of  his  own  raising,  had 
died  when  Primrose  was  a  child.  Since  her 
mother's  death,  Primrose  had  so  completely 


36  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

grown  into  her  place,  making  the  house 
always  comfortable,  working  by  her  father's 
side  in  the  garden  and  greenhouses,  that  old 
Christopher  Mott  really  forgot  that  he  had 
ever  had  any  other  mate  than  she.  She 
looked  like  her  mother,  was  quiet  and  cheer- 
ful and  busy  as  she  had  been.  In  the  old 
days  his  wife  had  stood  every  Sunday,  from 
morning  until  night,  in  the  summer-house, 
making  prim  bouquets  of  garden  flowers  for 
visitors  at  the  cemetery.  Now,  thirty  years 
later,  he  would  sometimes  look  in  the 
summer-house  and  see  what  might  very  well 
have  been  the  same  slender  little  woman, 
with  the  same  sweet,  homely,  wrinkled 
face,  making  exactly  the  same  kind  of  bou- 
quets, stiff  and  uncompromising  in  form, 
but  a  gorgeous  mixture  of  colours.  No 
wonder  he  was  a  little  confused  as  to  her 
exact  identity,  for  time  passes  on  tiptoe 
by  such  as  he.  He  did  not  realize  that 
he,  himself,  was  older  than  he  had  always 
been.  The  city  grew  about  him.  His  three 
acres  were  enclosed  by  brick  buildings. 
Trucks  and  delivery  wagons  constantly  rum- 
bled and  clattered  over  the  pavement  past  his 
gate.  At  first  all  this  had  been  a  great 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARC  AD  Y  37 

trouble  to  him.  As  the  years  passed,  he 
adapted  himself  to  the  new  conditions.  There 
was  still  quite  a  patch  in  the  centre  of  his 
garden  where  such  flowers  as  required  sun- 
light would  grow,  and  he  utilized  the  borders 
for  shrubs  and  vines  and  plants  that  would 
thrive  in  the  shade.  He  planted  ivy  near 
the  foundations  of  the  buildings  as  they  rose 
about  him,  and  the  walls,  covered  with  the 
green  leaves  whose  movements  and  whisper- 
ings he  could  understand,  no  longer  annoyed 
him.  He  became  accustomed  to  the  cries  of 
teamsters,  the  rumbling  and  clattering  of  their 
wagons,  all  the  clamour  of  the  street.  It  was 
some  distance  from  him  and  was  concealed 
by  hydrangea,  syringa,  and  lilac  bushes.  He 
could  now  sit  on  the  porch  of  his  cottage  in 
the  twilight  and  look  upon  his  garden,  or  he 
could  work  over  his  beds  all  day,  unconscious 
of  the  life  and  confusion  about  him. 

When  the  city  was  still  but  an  overgrown 
town,  with  homely  tastes  and  manners,  and 
he  was  the  only  florist,  he  was  able  to  endure 
the  demands  of  trade,  for  he  could  compel 
them  to  his  own  notions.  His  customers 
were  all  good  housewives  who  cared  for  their 
plants  with  their  own  hands,  and  only  came 


38  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

to  him  now  and  then  to  secure  some  little 
addition  to  the  family  of  geraniums,  fuchsias, 
and  begonias,  dwelling  comfortably,  as  he 
knew,  in  the  sunny  south  window  of  the 
sitting-room.  When  such  purchasers  called, 
he  could  enjoy  wandering  through  his  green- 
houses with  them,  discussing  the  ailments  of 
this  mutual  friend,  and  the  best  way  of  plant- 
ing or  pruning  or  making  cuttings  from  that 
one.  This  kind  of  neighbourly  accommoda- 
tion was  not  commerce.  He  only  sold  what 
he  could  best  spare,  and  he  knew  just  where 
every  plant  he  parted  with  was  going,  and  the 
good  care  it  would  receive.  If  some  upstart 
entered  his  premises,  plainly  ignorant  of  plants 
or  considering  them  only  as  things  for  show, 
Mr.  Christopher  Mott  had  nothing  to  sell,  and 
would  hastily  slip  away,  leaving  the  brisk  pur- 
chaser alone  with  his  astonishment  or  wrath. 
He  had  once  been  prevailed  upon  to  rent 
out  some  hundred  plants  to  a  lady  who  was 
among  the  first  to  introduce  formal  recep- 
tions with  decorations  and  light  refreshments. 
The  reception  was  on  Saturday  evening,  and 
he  did  not  get  the  plants  back  until  Monday. 
The  house  was  heated  by  a  furnace,  and  the 
dry,  hot  air  and  rough  handling  had  pro- 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  39 

duced  sad  effects.  The  earth  in  the  pots 
was  hard  and  dry,  and  the  blossoms  and  the 
leaves  had  been  damaged.  This  offence  was 
never  repeated.  More  and  more  he  learned 
to  dread  the  sound  of  the  gate  as  it  opened, 
and  when  he  heard  feet  upon  his  gravel  walk, 
he  would  spy  out  upon  the  intruder,  ready 
to  disappear  if  he  should  look  to  be  a  mere 
purchaser. 

The  property  increased  to  many  times  its 
original  value.  He  could  have  sold  it  on 
frequent  occasions  and  realized  a  comfortable 
fortune.  When  a  place  has  once  become  a 
home  to  such  a  nature,  it  no  longer  has  a 
price.  The  soul  seems  in  some  mysterious 
manner  to  be  rooted  there.  Poverty,  sick- 
ness, all  manner  of  sorrows,  and  even  death, 
will  be  endured  more  calmly  than  the 
thought  of  removing  from  that  particular 
plot  of  ground,  that  one  house  which  has 
become  home,  even  though  to  move  would 
bring  relief.  Christopher  Mott  saw  the 
fields  receding  from  him  with  regret.  But 
he  would  rather  sit  in  his  accustomed  place, 
surrounded  as  it  was  by  a  thousand  enemies, 
and  dream  of  the  sights  and  sounds  he  loved, 
—  the  broad,  open  meadows,  the  distant  line 


40  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

of  the  woodland,  the  wind,  the  changing  hues 
of  the  clouds,  the  birds,  —  than  to  follow 
them  and  fix  his  tabernacle  in  new  places. 

When  men  came  to  him  with  offers  to  buy, 
he  was  both  indignant  and  alarmed.  He  did 
not  listen  to  their  terms.  He  could  not  have 
told  if  he  had  been  offered  one  or  a  hundred 
times  a  thousand.  He  looked  upon  these 
offers  as  some  threat,  some  treacherous  and 
terrible  design  upon  him.  He  was  one  of 
those  who,  much  alone  and  silent,  live  in  their 
feelings  and  their  speculations,  a  life  entirely 
independent  of  judgment.  Their  emotions 
are  in  no  way  influenced  by  what  they  know. 
If  any  one  should  ask  this  old  eccentric  why 
his  taxes  increased  from  year  to  year,  he 
would  answer  that  it  was  because  the  value 
of  the  land  increased.  But,  at  once  for- 
getting this  sane  conclusion,  he  would  still 
feel  the  same  vague  apprehension  of  the  city 
and  look  upon  its  growing  levy  as  a  deliber- 
ate design  to  take  his  home  from  him. 

It  became  more  and  more  difficult  to  meet 
the  necessary  expenses.  First,  one  of  his  glass 
houses  and  then  another  became  dilapidated 
and  was  abandoned ;  for  what  with  defective 
pipes,  missing  panes  of  glass,  and  widening 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  41 

crevices,  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  keep 
them  warm  in  winter.  The  benches,  as  they 
decayed,  could  not  be  replaced,  for  lumber 
was  much  more  expensive  than  it  was  once, 
and  the  stream  of  money  that  used  to  trickle 
naturally  into  the  leather  pool  he  called  his 
purse,  had  for  some  reason  ceased  to  flow. 
As  these  changes  occurred,  his  habits  also 
changed.  Living  always  among  his  plants, 
he  had  become  so  familiar  with  them  that  all 
their  habits  and  needs  were  as  plain  to  him 
as  his  own.  They  were  real  beings  that  con- 
stantly needed  his  care  and  grew  into  his  af- 
fections. His  old  plants  were  his  old  people, 
who  sedately  occupied  their  tubs  and  peace- 
fully relied  upon  him  for  protection,  suste- 
nance, and  the  gratification  of  their  increasing 
whims.  His  young  plants  were  gay  little 
beings,  brought  into  the  world  with  his  assis- 
tance, ignorant  of  the  thousand  dangers 
awaiting  them.  How  carefully  he  watched 
over  them,  giving  them  the  sunlight,  the 
shade,  the  water,  the  nourishment  they 
needed,  and  taking  every  day  a  pleasure  in 
their  innocent  enjoyment.  He  saw  them 
grow,  he  noted  how  their  little  leaves  laughed 
in  the  breeze  and  how  their  blossoms  popped 


42  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

open  when  he  had  planted  them  safely  in 
the  garden  beds,  and  his  heart  grew  tender 
toward  them  like  that  of  a  wise  and  watchful 
father  as  he  sees  the  happiness  of  his  rosy- 
cheeked  children  at  their  play. 

For  years  he  had  done  all  this,  noting 
many  things  that  would  escape  most  peo- 
ple. His  knowledge  was  not  made  known, 
for  he  lived  with  these  creatures  as  a  mem- 
ber of  a  family  and  not  as  an  observer  with 
theories  to  exploit.  The  revelations  that 
came  to  him  constantly  concerning  the 
nature  and  ways  of  his  plants  were  of  ab- 
sorbing interest  to  him  because  he  loved 
them.  It  never  occurred  to  him  to  make 
known  what  he  learned.  As  the  houses 
were  abandoned  and  the  labour  of  caring  for 
the  plants  grew  less,  the  conduct  of  the  busi- 
ness, such  as  it  was,  fell  gradually  to  Prim- 
rose, and  he  devoted  himself  more  and  more 
to  the  pursuit  of  special  interests.  He  took 
some  of  the  framework  and  glass  from  the 
abandoned  houses  and  built  for  himself  a 
small  place  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  its 
glass  sides  exposed  to  the  sun,  where  he 
could  doctor  his  invalids  and  follow  any 
experiment  that  might  lead  him. 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  43 

Primrose  had  but  one  small  house  to  at- 
tend to.  This  was  heated  by  a  stove  at  each 
end,  and  by  a  row  of  large  lamps  suspended 
down  the  centre.  In  this  house  was  gathered 
all  that  her  father  had  kept  from  his  former 
stock.  A  century  plant,  two  huge  rubber 
trees,  and  a  phoenix  palm,  an  orange  tree, 
two  sicas,  an  oleander  and  an  abutilon,  all 
in  monstrous  tubs,  that  could  scarcely  be 
lifted  by  four  men.  These  and  some  fifty 
other  patriarchs,  utterly  worthless  as  com- 
merce, occupied  most  of  the  space.  They 
would  stand  there  forever  and  bring  not  a 
penny  for  their  keep,  but  to  Christopher 
Mott  they  furnished  the  only  real  necessity 
for  maintaining  this  remaining  house.  He 
still  grew  a  small  supply  of  young  gera- 
niums, fuchsias,  and  begonias,  for  a  few  old 
customers  who  maintained  the  south  win- 
dow families.  Every  fall  Primrose  made 
thousands  of  cuttings  from  salvia,  sweet  will- 
iams,  petunias,  mignonette,  and  verbenas  for 
the  next  year's  beds  of  these  housewives, 
and  for  her  father's  garden.  She  sowed  the 
seed  of  pansies,  forget-me-nots,  and  daisies, 
in  little  pans,  transplanted  them  in  boxes,  and 
finally  placed  them  in  rows  about  three  inches 


44  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

apart  in  the  cold-frames  between  the  green- 
houses and  the  kitchen.  Her  father  was 
willing  for  her  to  sell  such  of  these  in  the 
spring  as  he  did  not  need,  because  he  knew 
they  would,  of  course,  be  bought  only  for  the 
garden. 

One  day,  however,  as  he  was  passing  a 
grocery  store,  during  one  of  his  rare  walks 
through  the  city,  he  saw  a  display  of  young 
pansy  plants,  primroses,  and  daisies,  on  the 
sidewalk.  They  were  packed  loosely  into 
shallow  boxes  and  left  exposed  to  the  dust 
drifting  in  from  the  street,  the  sweep  of 
women's  dresses,  the  sticks  of  small  boys, 
and  the  insults  of  every  dog  that  passed. 
The  dirt  about  them  was  very  dry.  They 
drooped  dejectedly.  Blossoms  hung  in 
shreds  from  their  wilted  stocks,  or,  com- 
pletely severed  from  them,  blew  to  the  walk 
and  were  crushed  under  foot.  This  was  a 
horrible  sight  to  Christopher  Mott. 

"  How  do  I  know,"  he  thought,  "  but  that 
such  scoundrels  as  this  grocer  are  among 
my  customers  ? " 

He  returned  hastily  to  his  own  neighbour- 
hood and  investigated  for  several  blocks  in 
all  directions.  Here  and  there  he  saw  a  simi- 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  45 

lar  unfeeling  treatment  of  the  young  plants, 
and  hurried  home  in  great  distress. 

"  Primrose,"  he  called,  "  Primrose,"  as  soon 
as  the  gate  was  closed  behind  him.  It  was 
some  distance  down  a  gravelled  walk  from 
the  gate  to  the  house.  The  garden  spread 
in  all  directions.  Here  was  a  group  of  flower 
beds,  here  a  patch  of  shrubs,  there  an  arbour 
covered  with  grapevines  or  clematis,  and 
there  a  clump  of  fruit  trees.  The  only  lawn 
was  about  these  small  orchards.  The  re- 
mainder of  the  ground  was  divided  into 
flower  and  vegetable  beds  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes.  He  looked  here  and  there  for  Prim- 
rose. He  found  her  in  the  greenhouse  with 
a  stranger.  He  had  evidently  bought  a  few 
plants  that  were  standing  in  a  little  group 
by  themselves,  and  was  now  concluding  an 
arrangement  with  her. 

"  Of  course,"  he  was  saying,  "  it  will  be 
quite  a  trouble  for  you,  and  I  will  expect  to 
pay  for  that;  or  I  will  have  a  messenger  from 
the  club  call  every  morning  for  it,  if  you 
would  prefer.  That  would  cost  me  a  quarter. 
If  you  would  rather  deliver  it  yourself,  I  will 
pay  thirty-five  cents." 

Christopher  Mott  had  now  joined  them, 


46  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

and  was  looking  inquiringly  from  his  daughter 
to  the  stranger. 

"  This  gentleman,"  said  Primrose,  in  reply 
to  his  look,  "  wishes  me  to  send  him  a  car- 
nation every  morning." 

"  May  I  ask  your  name  ?  "  said  Mr.  Mott, 
casting  an  anxious  glance  at  the  plants  he 
was  about  to  lose. 

"  Minot  Alexander.  I  live  at  the  City  Club." 

"  Are  these  some  plants  you  have  selected  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  wanted  a  few  for  my  room." 

"  Do  you  have  furnace  heat  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I  am  afraid  I  can't  spare  these 
plants  just  now." 

Mr.  Alexander  looked  the  astonishment 
he  felt. 

"The  carnation,  of  course  we  could  give 
you,  but  it  is  quite  a  distance  to  the  club." 

"  I  was  just  saying  to  your  daughter  that 
I  would  either  send  for  it  or  pay  thirty-five 
cents  for  it  delivered." 

"  Oh,  that  is  too  much.  You  can  get  one 
for  five  cents  at  a  store  that  has  lately  opened 
just  opposite  you." 

"  But  I  would  rather  buy  of  you,"  said  Mr. 
Alexander.  "  The  fact  is,  that  I  have  often 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  47 

walked  by  here  just  to  look  in  upon  your 
flower  beds,  and  your  arbours,  and  pretty 
cottage,  and  cool  fruit  orchard." 

He  did  not  add  that  the  signs  of  distress 
about  the  place  had  at  last  prompted  him  to 
investigate.  He  began,  however,  to  appreci- 
ate something  of  the  true  situation.  The 
sympathy  and  interest  awakened  by  the  gen- 
tle manners  and  pleasant  simplicity  of  Prim- 
rose was  increased  by  the  little  glimpse  he 
had  caught  of  the  curious  character  of  her 
father. 

"Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Mott,  doubtfully, 
"if  you  wish  to  send  for  it,  I  suppose  you 
may." 

"  All  right,"  replied  Mr.  Alexander,  delighted 
by  this  concession.  "  And  now  about  the 
plants  ? " 

"  That  is  out  of  the  question.  I  really 
could  not  think  of  that.  You  see,  they 
would  not  do  well  with  furnace  heat.  I  am 
afraid,  if  you  are  not  accustomed  to  plants, 
they  would  last  only  a  very  short  time,  any- 
way." 

"  Then  you  don't  sell  to  every  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  I  must  know  they  will  be  taken 
care  of.  I  could  not  endure  to  think  of  my 


48  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

plants  when  they  leave  me  unless  I  am  sure 
they  are  doing  well." 

This  reminded  him  of  the  cause  of  his 
anxious  return. 

"  Primrose,"  he  asked  eagerly,  "  do  you  sell 
anything  to  the  grocers  and  storekeepers 
about  here  ? " 

"  I  have  sold  quite  a  good  deal  to  them 
this  spring,"  she  replied. 

"  Heavens  !  "  he  cried,  in  considerable  agi- 
tation. "  You  must  never  do  it  again.  You 
don't  know  how  they  handle  them.  I  have 
just  seen  thousands  of  young  pansies  covered 
with  dust,  torn  and  drooping,  in  dry  dirt,  with 
the  sun  blazing  on  them,  dying  for  want  of 
water  and  food." 

Odd  as  was  this  appeal,  Mr.  Alexander 
was  affected  by  it.  Whatever  he  might 
think  of  the  notions  expressed,  there  was  no 
doubt  about  the  sincerity  of  the  strange  old 
fellow  who  held  them.  His  distress  was  real. 
His  devotion,  his  purity  of  heart,  and  unself- 
ishness shone  in  his  face.  This  was  the  first 
visit  of  Mr.  Alexander,  but  in  the  years  that 
followed  he  was  a  more  and  more  frequent 
visitor.  It  became  his  custom  to  sit  upon 
the  porch  with  Mr.  Mott  and  Primrose  for  an 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  49 

hour  or  so  summer  evenings,  quietly  contem- 
plating the  garden,  breathing  in  the  sweet 
odours,  and  listening  to  the  hum  of  the  bees 
and  insects  that  hovered  here  until  the  dark- 
ness came. 

Poor  Primrose  had  a  sorry  time  of  it  in 
the  effort  to  meet  such  expenses  as  were 
necessary.  Fortunately,  their  table  cost 
them  very  little,  living,  as  they  did,  almost 
entirely  on  the  vegetables  and  fruit  they 
grew.  Now  and  then  she  would  have  to  speak 
to  her  father  when  some  pressing  need  arose 
and  there  was  no  money  to  meet  it.  The 
first  occasion  of  this  sort  occurred  just  after 
Mr.  Alexander's  first  visit. 

"Dear  father,"  she  said,  "the  taxes  are  due, 
and  I  have  only  a  little  of  the  amount.  If  I 
can't  sell  to  the  storekeepers,  what  will  I  do  ? 
They  were  my  best  customers." 

He  made  no  reply,  but  during  the  day  he 
thought  the  matter  over.  The  next  morning 
he  rose  early,  and  going  to  the  shed,  brought 
forth  a  long  push-cart  that  he  used  in  his 
garden.  This  he  loaded  with  crates  of  pan- 
sies,  forget-me-nots,  daisies,  and  sweet  alyssum, 
and  a  few  boxes  of  primroses  in  pots.  He 
looked  up  at  his  daughter,  who  was  stand- 


50  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

ing  in  the  kitchen  door,  smiled  cheerily,  and 
passed  out  upon  the  street  with  his  load 
before  him.  All  the  morning  he  trudged 
through  the  streets,  avoiding  the  teams,  and 
paying  no  heed  to  those  who  hailed  him  in 
passing.  He  would  not  sell  at  hap-hazard. 
He  stopped  only  at  homes  in  the  quiet  resi- 
dence streets.  If  the  woman  who  came  to 
the  door  pleased  him,  he  would  ask  her  a 
few  pointed  questions  to  convince  himself 
that  she  knew  a  daisy  from  a  dandelion,  and, 
if  all  was  satisfactory,  he  would  offer  her  his 
wares  in  so  persuasive  a  manner  that  he  sel- 
dom failed  to  sell  when  he  wished  to.  He 
left  amused  customers  behind  him,  but  car- 
ried with  him  a  heart  that  was  satisfied.  He 
returned  at  night  with  empty  boxes'.  This 
he  repeated  every  day  until  he  had  placed  in 
his  daughter's  hand  the  money  she  needed. 
After  this,  as  often  as  Primrose  came  to  him, 
he  resorted  to  his  push-cart  and  the  streets. 
When,  however,  the  season  for  planting  out 
of  doors  was  past,  it  was  not  so  easy  a  task. 
It  was  more  difficult  to  find  customers,  and, 
worse  still,  it  was  harder  to  make  a  selection 
to  sell.  The  few  hundred  house  plants  he 
still  had  room  for  were  dear  to  him.  If  he 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  51 

made  cuttings  and  grew  young  ones,  by  the 
time  they  were  old  enough  to  sell  they  were 
hard  to  part  from.  He  made  a  whimsical 
and  pathetic  figure  as  he  laboured  over  the 
filling  of  his  cart.  Fine,  thrifty  creatures, 
with  gay  blossoms,  he  was  tempted  to  reject 
because  of  his  pride  in  them  and  his  fear  of 
their  misfortunes.  It  was  like  sending  one's 
handsome,  wayward  daughters  into  a  world 
where  their  very  beauty  and  headstrong 
innocence  would  tempt  disaster.  The  less 
shapely  or  defective  plants  he  wished  to 
keep  with  him  in  pity.  It  usually  became 
necessary  for  him  to  call  Primrose  to  his 
help,  on  some  pretext  or  another.  Then  he 
would  watch  her,  as  it  were,  through  half- 
closed  senses  while  she  hastily  seized  this 
plant  and  that, — the  very  ones,  perhaps,  that 
he  had  before  placed  upon  the  cart  and 
removed. 

At  last,  however,  even  the  trade  of  the 
push-cart  was  not  enough.  The  taxes  in- 
creased, the  house  must  be  repaired,  clothes 
that  had  been  many  times  remade  and 
mended  were  worn  out. 

There  was  a  mortgage  of  three  thousand 
dollars  on  the  place,  given  to  a  loan  com- 


52  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

pany  when  the  greenhouses  were  first  built. 
It  had  been  three  years  since  the  interest  on 
this  had  been  paid. 

Matters  came  to  a  crisis  one  evening  with 
a  letter  from  the  secretary  of  the  loan  com- 
pany, informing  him  that  something  must  be 
done  at  once  or  the  mortgage  would  be  fore- 
closed. The  secretary  appreciated  the  old 
florist  much  more  than  might  be  expected 
from  so  shrewd  a  man  of  business,  and  had 
stood  between  him  and  the  company  for  over 
two  years.  There  was  to  be  a  meeting  of 
the  directors  on  the  following  morning,  and 
he  knew  that  the  Mott  mortgage  would  be 
one  of  the  matters  looked  into.  The  taxes 
for  the  half-year  had  not  been  met  in  Decem- 
ber, and  were  still  unpaid.  This  would  be 
discovered  by  the  directors,  and  unless  he  had 
something  better  to  offer  than  persuasion  or 
excuses,  they  would  direct  him  to  foreclose. 

"  I  want  to  help  you,"  the  secretary  wrote, 
"and  you  may  be  sure  I  will  do  my  best. 
Come  down  in  the  morning  early  and  talk  it 
over.  We  may  hit  upon  some  plan,  and 
even  if  we  don't,  I  can  at  least  tell  my  board 
that  you  have  been  to  see  me,  and  that  we 
are  trying  to." 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  53 

Primrose  read  this  letter  to  her  father  and 
quietly  resumed  her  sewing.  He  went  into 
the  garden  and  walked  slowly  up  and  down 
the  paths,  his  hands  behind  him,  his  glance 
fixed  upon  the  ground.  The  full  moon  was 
about  an  hour  above  the  buildings  and  more 
than  half  the  garden  was  flooded  by  its 
light.  The  dew  sparkled  like  jewels  on  the 
tips  of  the  crisp  leaves  of  the  plants  he  had 
that  day  set  out.  He  walked  over  to  see  if 
they  were  comfortable.  He  stood  for  a  while 
near  his  fruit  trees,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
the  mere  stirring  of  the  wind  in  their  branches 
could  not  create  the  peculiar  impression  of 
an  awakening  life  they  gave  to  him. 

"  It  must  be,"  he  thought,  "  that  the  un- 
folding of  the  leaves,  though  I  can  neither 
hear  nor  see  the  process,  is  recognized  by 
some  sense  I  am  unconscious  of." 

This  was  a  most  important  thought  to 
him,  and  he  stood  for  a  long  time  near  his 
trees,  pondering,  experimenting  with  him- 
self, listening  and  examining  closely.  When 
he  returned  to  the  house  he  had  forgotten 
the  letter,  nor  did  he  think  of  it  again  until 
the  next  morning,  when  Primrose  reminded 
him  of  it. 


54  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  You  had  better  go  down  and  see  him," 
she  said.  "  I  have  grown  a  great  many 
verbenas,  petunias,  and  geraniums  for  this 
spring,  and  perhaps  if  we  can  pay  them 
something,  they  will  wait." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will  go,"  replied  her  father, 
cheerfully,  for  it  was  a  warm,  sunny  morn- 
ing. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  looking  over  his 
garden  complacently,  and  then  started  briskly 
down  the  street  toward  the  loan  office.  He 
had  only  gone  a  little  way  when  he  met  Mr. 
Alexander,  who  stopped  him,  saying:  "  I  was 
just  going  to  you.  What  a  wonderful  spring 
this  is.  I  was  up  the  river  yesterday  and 
spent  the  whole  day  on  Pilliod's  Island. 
Come,  I  must  tell  you  about  it." 

He  began  at  the  beginning,  and  at  the 
mention  of  the  strange  pink  flower  he  had 
tried  to  secure,  Mr.  Mott  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Was  it  a  sweet  pogonia  ?  Do  you  sup- 
pose it  could  be  ? " 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is.  I  have  never 
seen  one  like  it  before." 

"  Was  the  blossom  shaped  something  like 
a  ladyslipper  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  it  was  a  beautiful,  clear  pink." 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  55 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Mott,  intensely 
interested.  "  I  believe  it  was  a  sweet 
pogonia.  That  is  one  of  the  finest  of  the 
orchids,  although  it  has  never  been  talked 
of  much.  It  is  certainly  very  rare  around 
here.  I  have  never  heard  of  one  before, 
though  it  might  very  well  grow  here.  I 
must  certainly  go  up  and  see." 

"But,  that  is  not  all  I  found,"  said  Mr. 
Alexander.  "  I  think  I  have  discovered  what 
I  have  wanted  for  many  years,  —  a  child  that 
I  can  love  and  make  happy." 

They  walked  on  together  without  any 
conscious  end  in  view,  while  Mr.  Alexander 
described  his  day  on  the  island,  his  experi- 
ences with  the  child,  and  his  speculations 
concerning  her. 

"  Why  don't  you  adopt  her  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Mott,  eagerly. 

"  I  would  like  to.  What  do  you  think  is 
necessary  for  a  young  girl's  happiness  ?  I 
would  certainly  take  her  if  her  mother  should 
die  and  I  were  sure  to  make  her  happy." 

"  A  nature  that  is  simple  and  healthy," 
replied  Mr.  Mott,  "will  be  happy  in  the  mere 
act  of  living.  The  truest  life  is  the  most 
natural  one.  Real  happiness  is  a  part  of 


56  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

healthy  growth.  I  doubt  any  one  can  expe- 
rience a  greater  happiness  than  that  of  a 
plum,  if  it  is  allowed  to  ripen  and  fall  un- 
molested." 

"  That  is  the  trouble,"  said  Mr.  Alexander. 
"  Very  few  plums  escape  the  worm  or  the 
greedy  bird,  the  rough  wind  or  the  hand  of 
the  marauder.  If  I  were  to  adopt  this  child, 
I  would  want  her  to  grow  into  womanhood, 
learning  to  know  herself,  but  ignorant  of  the 
world.  If  she  could  hold  to  her  ideals  until 
they  were  sufficient  unto  themselves,  so  that 
she  would  afterward  judge  all  that  she  met 
by  them,  and  not  them  by  what  she  met,  the 
world  could  not  harm  her.  I  would  like  to 
take  her  now  while  her  heart  and  mind  are 
free,  before  she  has  begun  to  love  and  to 
remember,  and  to  give  her  an  opportunity  to 
mature,  free  from  the  dangers  of  idealizing 
some  chance  lover  and  making  a  hero  of 
him.  That  is  what  ruins  the  lives  of  the 
fanciful  and  the  affectionate." 

"For  my  part,"  said  Mr.  Motts  "it  seems 
to  me  very  easy  to  be  happy.  Life  is  a  won- 
derful thing.  There  is  always  some  mystery 
just  about  to  be  revealed,  some  long-pondered 
question  almost  settled.  Just  last  night  a 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  57 

marvellous  possibility  whispered  to  me  as  I 
stood  in  the  moonlight  by  my  fruit  trees.  I 
found  myself  suddenly  listening  to  sounds 
'I  could  not  hear,  looking  at  what  I  could  not 
see.  I  am  certain  now  that  all  my  life  I 
have  been  receiving  impressions  through 
mediums  unnamed  as  yet  by  our  philoso- 
phies. I  often  suddenly  become  conscious 
of  a  communication  between  unknown  things 
and  a  being,  perhaps  many  beings,  within 
myself,  equally  unknown.  Here  is  a  mys- 
tery intense  and  alluring.  I  could  never  be 
dull  with  such  a  thought  to  pursue." 

As  they  walked  and  talked,  the  last  houses 
of  the  city  were  passed,  and  before  they 
knew  it  they  found  themselves  upon  a  coun- 
try road.  Now,  by  common  consent,  con- 
versation ceased.  They  lifted  their  heads  a 
little  higher  and  looked  silently  far  over  the 
fields.  They  took  long  breaths,  and  a 
curious  gleam  of  expectation  lighted  their 
eyes.  They  were  hunters  just  entering 
upon  familiar  preserves;  they  were  sailors, 
long  penned  inland,  just  headed  for  the 
sea ;  they  were  two  faithful  old  courtiers 
in  pursuit  of  an  ancient  coquette,  ever 
young.  They  were,  in  fact,  two  lovers  of 


58  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

nature,  who  found  themselves,  unwittingly, 
just  over  the  borderland  of  spring. 

A  bird,  evidently  the  first  real  songster  to 
have  arrived,  perched  upon  the  fence  near 
them,  shook  its  feathers  briskly,  picked  once 
or  twice  at  its  wing,  tossed  a  gay,  sweet  song 
into  the  air,  and  flew  swiftly  away  through 
the  sunlight. 

Here  and  there  a  tree  or  bush  was  bris- 
tling with  tiny  green  points  where  the  leaves 
were  beginning  to  appear.  The  dull  grey 
of  the  fields  was  giving  way  to  the  green 
of  the  new  grass  blades.  They  came  to  a 
bridge,  and  the  warm,  smooth  tops  of  the 
stone  supports  tempted  them.  Here  they 
sat,  their  old  legs  dangling  over  the  stream, 
as  happy  as  truants.  So  the  hours  passed. 
It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Christopher 
Mott,  happy  and  hungry,  reached  home.  As 
soon  as  he  appeared,  Primrose  bestirred  her- 
self. He  was  tired  with  his  long  trudge, 
and  was  glad  to  drop  into  his  rocker  on 
the  porch.  The  odour  of  carrots  and 
turnips,  and  the  sound  of  dried  beef  friz- 
zling in  hot  butter  in  the  frying-pan,  came 
cheerily  from  the  kitchen.  He  heard  the 
oven  door  open  and  close  and  thought 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  59 

perhaps  there  would  be  biscuit.  And  there 
were.  It  was  as  rare  a  dinner,  in  fact,  as  he 
had  eaten  in  years. 

"  I  have  had  a  fine  day,"  he  said  as  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair,  almost  satisfied, 
while  Primrose  poured  his  second  cup  of 
tea. 

"  I  am  glad,"  she  said.  "  Did  you  manage 
everything  all  right  with  the  loan  company  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Mott,  aghast.  He  knew  well  enough,  but 
the  remembrance  of  his  neglected  mission 
came  so  suddenly  from  such  a  complete 
and  blissful  forgetfulness,  that  he  cried  out 
as  one  might  dodge  a  blow  that  has  already 
been  dealt. 

"About  the  mortgage,"  replied  Primrose, 
wondering  what  the  trouble  could  be. 

"  I  did  not  go,"  he  said,  in  confusion,  trying 
to  recall  just  how  he  had  come  to  forget. 

"  But,  father,"  said  the  girl,  anxiously,  "  I 
am  afraid  they  will  not  wait  any  longer." 

He  noticed  the  distress  in  her  eyes,  and 
suddenly  his  own  soul  was  plunged  in  misery. 
He  was,  all  at  once,  without  a  moment's 
weighing  of  the  matter,  as  sure  of  the  loss 
of  his  place  as  if  he  were  already  torn  from 


60  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

it.  A  vision  of  the  bedraggled  and  suffering 
plants  he  had  seen  exposed  to  the  mercy  of 
the  streets  appeared  to  him,  and  he  imagined 
himself  already  in  a  similar  plight.  It  was 
not  poverty  he  feared.  He  did  not  think  of 
that.  He  did  not  even  consider  that  the 
place,  if  sold,  would  bring  enough  to  establish 
him  in  luxurious  quarters  for  life  and  give 
him  an  independent  income.  To  leave  his 
home,  to  see  his  trees  cut  down,  his  shrubs 
uprooted,  his  flower  beds  trampled  upon  and 
destroyed,  would  be  his  death.  All  his  terror 
of  the  city  returned  to  him.  While  he  had 
been  discoursing  on  the  beauty  of  life  with 
his  friend,  the  tragedy  of  life  had  caught  him 
by  the  coat  tails.  He  rose  from  the  table 
and  went  mechanically  into  the  garden.  He 
stood  in  the  midst  of  his  flowers,  seeing 
nothing.  His  heart  was  full  of  fear. 


CHAPTER  III 

FOR  the  first  time  in  his  life,  Christopher 
Mott  spent  a  sleepless  night.  Just  before 
morning  he  fell  into  a  doze,  but  at  five 
o'clock,  his  hour  for  rising,  he  woke  with  a 
start.  He  lay  quietly,  for  a  moment,  wonder- 
ing what  had  happened.  He  seemed  to  be 
in  a  strange  place.  He  could  hardly  distin- 
guish the  objects  about  him ;  they  were 
vague  of  outline  and  unreal.  His  head  hurt 
him  and  he  wished  to  rub  it,  but  his  hand 
was  too  heavy  to  lift.  "  I  must  get  up,"  he 
thought. 

He  again  opened  his  eyes,  and  this  time  he 
was  very  much  startled.  It  was  about  mid- 
night. He  could  tell  that  by  the  stillness, 
by  the  tones  of  the  ticking  clock,  by  the 
look  of  the  world  through  the  window.  A 
moment  before,  the  pale  light  of  the  morning 
had  been  about  him,  and  now  it  was  night 
again.  That  was  very  strange.  His  head 
felt  better,  but  he  was  weak.  Perhaps  he 

61 


62  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

was  dreaming.  He  was  certainly  passing  a 
very  restless  night.  He  would  try  and  sleep 
and  not  dream.  He  heard  a  movement  in 
the  room,  and  his  heart  stood  still.  He 
listened  and  was  sure  that  some  one  was  near 
him.  He  turned  his  head  slowly,  silently,  on 
the  pillow  and  looked.  He  could  distinguish 
a  dim  figure  near  the  window.  There  was  a 
man  sitting  in  his  rocker. 

He  tried  to  speak,  but  it  was  some  time 
before  he  could  hear  himself  say,  "  Who  are 
you  ?  " 

His  voice  was  too  feeble.  It  could  not  be 
heard.  He  remembered  now  that  he  had 
tried  to  speak  before  in  his  dreams  and  no 
one  heard  him. 

"  I  will  sleep,"  he  said,  "  and  not  dream." 

He  tried  to  recall  what  he  had  been  so  dis- 
tressed about  before  going  to  bed.  Then  he 
remembered  that  it  was  because  he  could  not 
make  the  young  salvias  and  coleus  he  was 
planting  stay  in  the  ground.  It  had  been  ter- 
rible. As  fast  as  he  put  them  in  their  holes 
they  popped  out  again.  If  by  dint  of  great 
quickness  and  exertion  he  managed  to  finish  a 
row,  he  would  look  back  when  the  end  was 
reached  and  see  them  all  stretched  upon  the 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  63 

ground,  with  every  fibre  of  their  roots  shaken 
free  from  the  moist  dirt,  dry  and  wilting  in 
the  sun.  He  shuddered  again  to  think  of  it. 

"  But  look,"  said  the  wind  in  the  cherry 
trees  above  him,  for  he  was  now  standing  in 
the  cool  shade  of  an  orchard,  "why  do  you 
worry  ?  There  are  all  your  young  plants 
standing  upright  and  stiff.  They  are 
already  fast  rooted.  You  can  see  how  fat 
with  sap  their  stalks  and  stems  are.  And 
look  at  the  branches  of  these  cherry  trees ! 
Did  you  ever  see  such  a  mass  of  blossoms  ?  " 
He  noticed  then  how  fragrant  was  the  air 
and  how  fresh  and  green  the  grass.  He 
lay  down  under  the  blossoms  and,  closing 
his  eyes,  passed  into  a  happy,  dreamless 
sleep.  When  he  awoke,  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly  into  his  room.  He  was  surprised 
to  find  himself  in  bed.  He  saw  Primrose 
sitting  by  the  window,  sewing. 

"  How  did  I  come  to  be  here  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Oh,  father,'*  cried  Primrose,  jumping 
from  her  chair.  Then,  as  if  recovering 
from  a  great  surprise  and  as  if  remembering 
a  part  she  had  learned,  she  resumed  her 
seat  and  began  to  rock  and  sew.  "  Have 


64  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

you  slept  well  ?  "  she  asked  pleasantly,  as  if 
nothing  had  occurred. 

"  It  must  be  very  late,"  said  her  father, 
feebly,  trying  in  vain  to  raise  himself  in  bed. 
She  put  her  sewing  down  quietly  and  went 
over  to  him.  She  pressed  him  gently  back 
upon  the  pillow,  kissed  him,  and  stroked  his 
hair. 

"  Don't  worry  about  getting  up,"  she  said ; 
"  you  are  weak,  and  must  be  very  quiet  for 
a  while  yet." 

"What  is  the  trouble?"  he  asked  anx- 
iously. "Am  I  sick?" 

"  You  are  nearly  well  now,"  she  said  cheer- 
fully. "  The  doctor  says  that  in  a  few  days 
more  you  will  be  better  than  ever." 

"  Has  the  doctor  been  here  ?  I  didn't 
know  it."  He  remembered  the  man  by  the 
window  in  the  night,  and  wondered  if  it 
were  he. 

"  It  was  foolish  of  me,"  he  said,  partly  to 
himself,  "  to  go  to  sleep  on  the  ground.  How 
did  you  bring  me  in  ?  " 

Primrose  was  startled.  She  thought  he 
must  be  still  delirious. 

"  You  must  have  dreamed  that,"  she  said. 

"  Perhaps   I  did.     Of  course   I  dreamed 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  65 

it,  for  the  cherry  trees  are  not  in  blossom 
yet." 

He  closed  his  eyes,  and  Primrose,  thinking 
he  would  again  fall  asleep,  went  noiselessly 
back  to  the  window.  But  he  was  not  sleep- 
ing. He  said  presently:  — 

"  Primrose,  what  was  I  worried  about  last 
night?  It  could  not  have  been  about  the 
verbenas  and  coleus — I  must  have  dreamed 
that,  too." 

He  laughed  to  himself  at  the  thought  of 
the  queer  tricks  they  had  played  on  him. 

"  It  is  not  even  time  to  plant  them  yet." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  worry  about,"  said 
Primrose.  "  All  you  need  do  is  to  be  quiet 
and  comfortable  and  get  well." 

Suddenly  Mr.  Mott  opened  his  eyes  wide 
and  sniffed  the  air. 

"  What  do  I  smell  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 
"  It  can't  be  cherry  blossoms.  And  yet  I 
surely  smell  them.  Am  I  still  dreaming? 
Tell  me,  Primrose." 

Primrose  looked  out  of  the  window  a 
moment,  and  then  coming  again  to  the 
bedside  said  gently :  — 

"  You  are  awake,  father.  The  trees  are  in 
bloom.  If  you  will  just  rest  quietly  and  not 


66  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

worry  for  a  few  days,  you  will  be  up  and  see 
them  for  yourself." 

"  How  long  have  I  been  sick  ?  " 

"  Almost  two  weeks." 

"  Almost  two  weeks  ?  "  he  repeated.  He 
lay  for  a  long  time  with  his  eyes  closed, 
while  Primrose  lightly  rubbed  his  forehead 
and  temples. 

****** 

Mr.  Alexander  passed  very  little  of  his 
leisure  in  the  general  rooms  of  the  club. 
He  preferred  a  quiet  evening  with  his  books 
by  his  own  lamp  and  table.  In  the  company 
of  his  pipe  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  he  felt  much 
more  sociable  and  at  home  than  with  most 
of  his  acquaintances.  Men  thought  him 
rather  cold  and  reserved,  but  they  held  him 
in  profound  respect,  for  he  was  both  honour- 
able and  rich. 

"  He  knows  how  to  make  money,"  they 
said,  "  but  his  heart  is  a  dried  apple." 

They  did  not  hear  him  chuckle  nor  see 
the  moisture  in  his  eyes  when  alone  up  there 
in  his  room  with  his  invisible  companions. 

The  evening  after  his  stroll  into  the  coun- 
try with  Mr.  Mott,  he  stopped  for  a  few 
moments  in  the  library  of  the  club.  This 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  67 

room  was  called  the  library,  and,  in  fact, 
there  were  a  number  of  books  in  orderly 
rows,  securely  locked  in  richly  decorated 
cases  along  one  side  of  the  room.  The  keys 
to  these  cases  had  been  lost  several  years, 
but  no  one  had  missed  them.  It  was  a  com- 
fortable room,  however,  and  the  rack  on 
which  the  daily  papers  hung  was  well  pat- 
ronized. When  Mr.  Alexander  entered,  two 
gentlemen  were  lounging  comfortably  in  big 
leather  chairs,  reading  their  papers  and  smok- 
ing. They  were  Mr.  Nathan  and  Mr.  Alden, 
the  one  a  director  of  the  People's  Loan  Com- 
pany, the  other  its  secretary. 

"  Hello,  Alexander,"  said  Mr.  Alden.  "  I 
see  you  were  on  the  right  side  of  the  wheat 
excitement,  as  usual." 

"Was  I?"  replied  Mr.  Alexander,  indif- 
ferently. "  I  told  my  boys  to  buy  this  morn- 
ing." 

He  looked  over  the  other's  shoulders  and 
saw  a  long  report  of  the  day's  doings  on 
'Change.  He  was  reported  as  among  the 
heavy  operators  and  his  profits  were  enor- 
mous. 

"  It  was  a  good  day  for  you,"  said  Mr. 
Nathan,  pleasantly. 


68  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

"  Indeed,  it  was,"  replied  Mr.  Alexander. 
"  I  spent  it  along  a  country  road  with  my 
old  friend  Mott.  I  wonder  that  they  don't 
adjourn  the  board  for  a  few  weeks  in  the 
spring.  I  will  propose  it  to-morrow."  He 
indulged  in  a  grim  smile  at  the  thought 
of  the  reception  such  a  proposal  would 
receive. 

"That  Mott,"  said  Mr.  Alden,  "is  a  queer 
fellow.  I  don't  understand  him.  He  has 
always  pretended  to  me  that  he  would  not 
part  with  that  place  of  his  at  any  price.  But 
from  what  you  say  I  should  judge  our  fore- 
closure of  his  mortgage  has  worried  me  more 
than  it  has  him." 

"  How  is  that? "  said  Mr.  Alexander,  very 
much  interested. 

"  Oh,  we  have  held  a  mortgage  against  him 
for  twenty  years  and  foreclosed  it  to-day." 

"  Does  he  know  it  ?  How  much  is  the 
mortgage  ? " 

"  Three  thousand.  It  don't  amount  to  any- 
thing on  that  place,  of  course,  but  he  has 
seemed  so  anxious  to  keep  it,  and  convinced 
me  at  least  that  he  could  not  pay,  that  I  have 
tried  my  best  for  two  years  to  hold  things 
off.  I  wrote  to  him  yesterday  to  come  and 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  69 

see  me,  but  I  begin  to  think  I  could  have 
spared  my  pains." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Alexander, 
uneasily,  "  that  I  believe  he  was  on  his 
way  to  see  you  when  I  met  him,  and  that 
he  forgot  his  errand  ?  " 

"Well,  well,"  laughed  Mr.  Alden,  "that 
would  be  just  like  him.  If  that  is  so,  how- 
ever, it  can't  distress  him  much." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about 
Mott,"  said  Mr.  Nathan.  "  He  is  a  crazy  fool, 
and  I  can't  see  for  the  life  of  me  why  we  put 
up  with  him  as  long  as  we  did.  You  can't 
run  a  loan  company  on  sentiment,  I  tell  you." 

Mr.  Nathan  was  a  self-made  man  who  had 
spent  thirty  years  in  an  active,  unceasing 
effort  to  get  rich,  and  had  succeeded.  He 
was  now  nearly  fifty,  and  could  look  from  the 
window  where  he  sat  and  contemplate  the 
tall,  solid  evidence  of  his  wealth  and  energy 
in  the  form  of  a  few  of  the  buildings  he  owned. 
He  was  not  thinking  of  them,  however;  these 
were  now  only  half-forgotten  achievements, 
more  of  a  care,  in  fact,  than  a  pleasure.  His 
mind's  eye  was  fixed  eagerly  upon  other  and 
taller  buildings  he  hoped  yet  to  possess. 


70  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"What  good  is  a  man  like  Mott  in  the 
world?"  said  he.  "  That  land  of  his  remains 
an  eyesore  in  the  middle  of  the  city.  I  tried 
to  buy  it  of  him  five  years  ago  for  a  tin  can 
factory,  and  you  would  have  thought  I  was 
trying  to  steal  it  by  the  way  he  treated  me. 
It's  a  good  thing  for  others  when  such  fellows 
go  under.  There  is  no  progress  with  them 
in  the  way." 

Mr.  Alexander  looked  at  the  speaker 
through  half-closed  eyes. 

"  Alden,"  he  said,  after  a  little  pause,  "  just 
hold  that  proceeding  over  for  a  day  or  two. 
I'll  guarantee  that  the  mortgage  will  be  paid 
or  renewed  and  the  interest  all  met  in  good 
order." 

He  went  up  to  his  own  room,  read  a  few 
chapters  in  "  Old  Mortality,"  and  went  to 
bed. 

The  next  afternoon  he  walked  out  to  Mr. 
Mott's.  Primrose,  pale  and  anxious,  met  him 
at  the  door. 

"  He  is  very  sick,"  she  said.     "  He  is  un- 


conscious." 


Mr.  Alexander,  alarmed,  waited  to  see  the 
doctor,  who  was  then  in  the  sick  chamber. 
"  It  is  brain  fever,"  said  the  doctor.     "  He 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  71 

is  old,  and  it  will  go  hard  with  him  ;  but  he  is 
well  seasoned  and  strong  for  his  years,  and 
will  come  through  all  right." 

"What  was  it,  Primrose?"  asked  Mr. 
Alexander,  as  he  took  her  hand  and  led  her 
to  the  bench  on  the  porch. 

"  We  will  lose  this  place  and  it  will  kill 
him.  I  don't  know  why  he  failed  to  go  to  the 
Loan  Company  yesterday.  It  might  not  have 
done  any  good,  for  they  have  lost  patience ; 
but,  of  course,  there  is  no  hope  now." 

"  Primrose,  let  me  talk  with  you  about  this 
frankly.  Do  you  know  that  this  place  is 
worth  a  fortune?  Its  value  only  makes  it 
expensive  for  your  father  and  you  because 
you  can  make  no  use  of  it ;  but  if  you  sold  it, 
you  could  pay  off  all  you  owe  and  never 
want  for  anything  again." 

"  I  don't  believe  my  father  would  know 
what  you  meant  by  that." 

"  Perhaps  not,  but  if  the  thing  were  done, 
and  he  should  find  himself  with  a  beautiful 
little  house,  with  another  few  acres  around 
it,  where  he  could  work  and  experiment  as 
he  does  here,  he  would  grow  used  to  it,  and 
you,  Primrose,  don't  you  understand  that 
your  life  would  be  different  ?  " 


72  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

"  How  would  it  be  changed  ?  " 

"  If  you  had  a  little  fortune  in  securities, 
with  a  good  interest  coming  to  you  regularly, 
you  would  not  need  to  work  as  you  do  now, 
but  could  fix  up  your  house  handsomely, 
make  fine  friends,  visit  and  travel  and  enter- 
tain. You  could  have  beautiful  dresses  and 
more  lovers  than  you*  would  know  what  to 
do  with." 

Primrose  laughed  in  spite  of  her  anxiety, 
but  though  she  assured  him  that  she  knew 
how  plain  and  unattractive  she  was,  and  that 
no  amount  of  ornament  could  make  her  beau- 
tiful, she  looked  wistfully  down  the  garden 
paths  as  she  spoke,  as  if  half  hoping  for  some 
long-expected  one. 

"  Perhaps  you  do  not  care  for  lovers  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Oh,  I  would  not  want  many,"she  answered, 
a  little  confused,  and  yet  a  little  pleased,  half- 
nervous  and  half -am  used.  "  What  I  would 
like  is  impossible." 

"  And  what  is  that,  Primrose  ?  " 

"  A  lover,  young  and  handsome,  romantic 
and  noble,  who  would  come  to  me  just  as  I 
am,  and  worship  me  and  think  me  the  most 
beautiful  woman  in  the  world." 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  73 

"  Have  you  never  loved  any  one,  then,  nor 
had  a  lover  ?  " 

k*  Do  you  think  I  would  tell  you  that  ? " 
she  answered. 

He  smiled  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Then  you  are  not  tempted  by  an  invest- 
ment, fine  dresses,  and  the  world  ?  " 

"  Not  the  world  as  it  really  is,"  she  said. 
"  I  love  to  take  journeys  and  wear  very  gay 
costumes,  and  I  am  constantly  doing  so. 
You  have  no  idea  where  these  gravel  walks 
can  take  you  on  a  fine  afternoon  or  a  bright 
summer  night.  And  I  often  discover  the 
most  wonderful  people  in  our  arbours.  It  will 
not  distress  me,  of  course,  as  much  as  it  will 
my  father,  but  when  I  go  from  here  it  will  be 
like  leaving  a  lovely  world  that  has  grown 
used  to  me  and  given  me  place,  that  knows 
me  for  what  I  hope  and  fancy,  and  going 
into  a  world  that  is  strange  and  indifferent. 
You  think  my  father  would  grow  used  to 
the  change  ?  He  never  would.  I  doubt  if 
he  would  make  it.  It  is  the  familiarity,  the 
friendliness  of  the  things  about  him  that 
keeps  youth  in  his  old  body.  He  could  not 
really  be  old.  If  he  were  to  begin  to  grieve 
and  think  of  his  age,  and  realize  that  the 


74  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

associations  of  his  life  were  over,  he  would 
die  at  once,  as  a  pod,  when  it  is  picked  and 
emptied,  dries  and  is  blown  away." 

"  Primrose,"  said  Mr.  Alexander,  patting 
her  hand,  "  I  will  buy  this  mortgage  and  will 
hold  it  without  interest.  But  I  would  rather 
your  father  did  not  know  it.  I  may  wish  to 
ask  a  favour  of  him  some  day  and  I  want  him 
to  be  free." 

And  so,  when  Mr.  Mott,  after  his  two 
weeks'  illness,  sitting  in  his  rocker  by  the 
window,  looking  again  over  his  garden  now 
green  and  blooming,  remembered  the  danger 
that  menaced  him,  he  was  quickly  reassured 
by  Primrose. 

"  That  was  all  a  foolish  mistake,"  she  said, 
lying  complacently ;  "  they  will  never  trouble 
us  again.  It  was  all  explained  and  settled 
the  very  next  day,  but  you  could  not  know 
it  then.  They  are  so  secure,  you  see,  that 
it  doesn't  matter  if  we  never  pay  them." 

This  seemed  like  perfectly  good  logic  to 
Mr.  Mott,  and  he  was  contented  and  happy. 
He  looked  over  his  beds  and  his  arbours  and 
orchards,  planning  how  to  improve  them. 

"  I  think,"  he  said, "  I  will  take  down  those 
poor,  tattered  houses.  They  are  only  ex- 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  75 

posed  to  the  weather  as  they  are,  and  I  can- 
not repair  them." 

"  We  can  take  the  room  they  occupy,"  said 
Primrose,  "  for  flower  and  vegetable  beds,  and 
use  all  this  space  between  the  cottage  and  the 
flats  for  lawns  and  shrubbery.  I  would  like 
a  bower  in  the  midst  of  it,  with  a  little  foun- 
tain near  it,  and  enclosed  with  syringa  bushes 
and  hydrangeas." 

All  her  life  Primrose  had  dreamed  of  such 
a  bower,  in  the  midst  of  a  smooth,  green  lawn, 
shut  away  by  flowering  shrubs  and  lightly 
shaded  by  a  few  graceful  trees,  where  she 
could  hold  occasional  receptions  for  the  de- 
lightful people  she  was  always  meeting  in  her 
rambles  along  the  extending  gravel  paths. 

One  day,  during  Mr.  Mott's  convalescence, 
Mr.  Alexander  was  sitting  with  him  on  the 
porch. 

"  When  I  am  strong  again,"  said  Mr.  Mott, 
"  I  will  remove  those  houses  that  are  falling 
down.  I  wish  I  were  well,  for  I  am  impa- 
tient to  get  at  my  garden.  There  are  a  hun- 
dred things  I  have  planned  to  do  while  sitting 
here." 

"  It  is  very  beautiful  as  it  is,"  said  Mr. 
Alexander. 


76  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

"  You  will  see  what  a  paradise  I  will  make 
of  it  when  I  am  strong  again.  All  that 
patch  over  there  I  will  sod  with  white  clover 
turf.  I  will  plant  a  little  group  of  four  elms. 
There  will  be  a  fountain  in  the  centre,  from 
which  a  little  stream  will  run  through  the 
grass.  I  will  cut  a  narrow  way  for  it  in  the 
sod,  and  line  it  with  pebbles.  Near  the  foun- 
tain I  will  build  a  summer-house  and  cover 
it  with  climbing  roses.  All  this  will  be  en- 
closed with  flowering  shrubs,  and  will  be 
our  drawing  room.  Then,  when  you  come 
for  the  afternoon,  we  can  sit  in  the  summer- 
house  and  listen  to  the  cool  sound  of  the 
water.  Perhaps  Primrose  will  read  one  of 
your  books  for  us,  or  Father  L'Amora  will 
tell  us  one  of  his  stories.  In  the  evening  we 
can  stretch  ourselves  on  the  grass,  when  there 
is  no  dew,  and  look  up  at  the  stars." 

"  How  much  easier  you  could  do  all  that," 
said  Mr.  Alexander,  "  if  you  had  money,  and 
could  hire  a  few  good  men  to  help  you." 

"  I  have  never  understood  how  to  get 
money,"  said  Mr.  Mott,  with  a  quaint  smile. 
"  But  I  have  never  missed  it  much." 

"  My  friend,"  said  Mr.  Alexander,  "  I  would 
like  to  see  those  things  done  that  you  describe, 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  77 

and  all  the  affairs  of  this  pleasant  haunt  of 
mine  running  as  merrily  as  the  little  brook 
you  will  make.  I  am  to  enjoy  these  delights 
with  you,  and  will  help  to  realize  them 
speedily.  If  you  will  let  me  manage  your 
affairs,  you  will  have,  without  bothering  about 
it,  what  money  you  need." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  I  will  invest  five  thousand  dollars  for 
you." 

"  But  I  haven't  five  thousand  dollars,"  said 
Mr.  Mott,  with  the  greatest  surprise. 

"  I  will  lend  it  to  you." 

Mr.  Mott  looked  at  his  friend  a  moment, 
wondering.  He  then  asked  in  all  serious- 
ness, "  But  would  that  be  quite  business- 
like ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Mr.  Alexander,  gravely ; 
"  you  can  give  me  a  second  mortgage  on 
this  property,  which  will  be  good  security. 
Anybody  will  tell  you  that." 

Entirely  reassured  by  his  manner,  Mr. 
Mott  complacently  agreed.  The  next  after- 
noon, Mr.  Alexander  came  with  a  lawyer. 
The  mortgage  was  drawn,  read  over  to  Mr. 
Mott,  who  listened  with  the  elaborate  atten- 
tion of  total  incomprehension,  interrupting 


78  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

now  and  then  to  inform  Mr.  Alexander  and 
the  lawyer  of  some  new  detail  of  the  little 
eden  he  was  preparing,  which  had  come  to 
him  overnight. 

They  told  him  where  to  sign,  and  Prim- 
rose brought  his  spectacles,  which  he  care- 
fully polished  and  adjusted  with  the  rare 
dignity  that  came  to  him  on  great  occasions. 
He  fixed  his  attention  upon  the  paper  long 
enough  to  write  his  name. 

He  now  felt  himself  intimately  connected 
with  those  vast  and  mysterious  influences 
which  control  the  world,  and  the  simple,  un- 
questioning confidence  he  felt  in  his  friend 
made  him  able,  for  the  first  time,  to  think 
of  them  without  terror.  Even  the  lawyer 
seemed  to  be  a  pleasant,  companionable  sort 
of  man,  and  when  Primrose  brought  to  them 
each  a  cup  of  her  delicious  tea,  Mr.  Mott 
leaned  comfortably  back  in  his  chair,  revel- 
ling in  the  novel  delights  which  his  venture 
in  business  had  brought  him. 

A  new  existence  began  for  Mr.  Mott  and 
Primrose.  It  was  at  first  difficult  for  them 
to  make  use  of  their  money.  Mr.  Alexander 
himself  was  constantly  obliged  to  suggest  to 
them  ways  in  which  it  could  be  spent.  Mr. 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  79 

Mott  now  began  to  think  of  the  great  city 
about  him  with  a  friendliness,  which  more 
and  more  grew  into  a  positive  affection.  It 
took  for  him  the  character  of  its  representa- 
tive, Mr.  Alexander.  He  could  never  get 
over  his  surprise  in  the  fact  that  the  money 
he  used,  which  seemed  very  large  to  him,  did 
not  exhaust  the  supply.  The  greenhouses 
were  removed,  and  workmen  had  already 
begun  to  lay  the  sod  before  Mr.  Mott  had 
himself  been  able  to  take  any  active  part  in 
the  labour.  He  had  directed  the  work  from 
his  chair  on  the  porch,  where,  every  even- 
ing, Mr.  Alexander  joined  him  to  watch  the 
proceedings. 

One  day  Mr.  Alexander  took  the  mortgage 
from  his  pocket  and  laid  it  on  Mr.  Mott's 
knee. 

"  You  may  destroy  that  now,"  said  he.  "  It 
has  been  paid  from  your  profits." 

"  It  is  wonderful,"  said  Mr.  Mott.  "  I 
would  like  to  know  how  you  did  it." 

"  It  is  easy  enough  to  make  money,"  re- 
plied his  friend.  "  The  problem  lies  in  know- 
ing what  to  do  with  it,  so  that  it  will  become 
a  pleasure  instead  of  a  burden.  It  tempts 
men  to  its  pursuit  with  great  promises, 


8o  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

which  it  seems  to  forget  as  soon  as  it  is 
gained." 

*         #         #         #         *         * 

During  these  weeks  Mr.  Alexander  had 
often  thought  of  his  day  on  Pilliod's  Island, 
and  the  child.  He  had  intended  to  see  her 
again  before  this,  to  find  some  way,  if  possi- 
ble, of  helping  her  mother.  Mr.  Mott  and 
his  affairs  had  occupied  his  leisure,  however, 
and  this  other  interest  had  been  allowed  to 
drift.  He  had  almost  forgotten  the  matter, 
when  he  received  this  answer  to  his  letter  to 
Mother  Pelagia:  — 

"  MY  FRIEND  :  I  have  been  so  long  in  writing  to  you, 
because  at  first  I  was  in  great  trouble  over  your  letter. 
To  answer  you  in  sympathy  with  your  own  feelings  would 
be  to  hearken  to  voices  in  my  heart  long  since  silenced 
by  prayer  and  penance. 

"  The  '  Betty '  you  once  knew  should  be  forgotten  by 
us  both,  and  yet  I  am  afraid  she  will  not  be  altogether 
still.  Ever  since  our  convent  postman  rode  in,  bringing 
your  letter  to  me,  this  same  old  Betty  has  been  following 
me  everywhere,  whispering  so  loudly  I  feared  she  would 
be  overheard.  She  has  never  left  me,  going  even  to  mass, 
refusing  to  kneel,  and  even  tempting  me  to  snap  a  little 
holy  water  on  one  of  the  sisters  who  met  me  at  the  font 
in  the  chapel.  I  tell  you  this  that  you  may  see  how  wise 
it  was  to  suppress  so  incorrigible  a  creature  as  this  Betty. 

"  Dear  friend,  believe  me  when  I  say  that,  lonely  as 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  8 1 

you  are,  it  is  far  better  for  both  you  and  me  that  we  were 
so  early  separated.  In  such  a  nature  as  yours  only  the 
virtues  grow,  and  so  I  know  that  I  have  become  for  you 
a  far  nobler  woman  than  I  could  have  been  had  I  re- 
mained with  you  in  the  world.  Betty  in  my  hands  would 
ever  have  been  a  vain  and  malicious  vixen,  delighting  in 
the  torture  of  those  who  loved  her.  Abandoned  by  me, 
and  left  wholly  to  the  protection  and  guidance  of  your 
tenderness  and  charity,  she  has  become  all  that  is  gracious 
and  womanly. 

"  You  doubt  if  religion  has  brought  me  as  great  a  joy 
as  would  love,  or  if  the  church  is  as  much  to  me  as  a 
home  would  have  been.  I  doubt  if  either  love  or  religion 
can  bring  joy  to  such  a  nature  as  mine.  But  I  do  know 
that  the  church  has  brought  me  to  an  understanding  of 
myself  and  made  me  of  some  use  in  the  world. 

"  Here  in  our  little  convent  world  there  is  nothing  to 
encourage  the  kind  of  vanity  that  was  mine.  It  required 
years  of  humble  service  and  the  most  unbending  discipline 
to  conquer  the  worthless  pride  and  petty  desires  that  once 
controlled  me.  But  during  all  those  years,  even  while  I 
was  still  wilful  and  restless  at  heart,  the  solemn  chapel 
bells,  and  the  bells  that  tinkle  their  messages  and  their 
appeals  from  hour  to  hour,  were  speaking  to  me  of  holy 
and  peaceful  things.  The  sisters  coming  and  going  on 
missions  of  love  and  mercy  were  the  only  mediums  be- 
tween me  and  the  world  of  men.  The  paintings  and 
books  about  me  spoke  only  of  those  who  were  seeking 
the  ideal.  Here  in  the  midst  of  these  beautiful  woods 
and  fair  lawns,  in  this  temple  dedicated  to  Our  Lady  of 
Peace,  there  seemed  to  be  no  evil  except  what  my  own 
stubborn  heart  contained.  I  became  ashamed  and  peni- 


82  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

tent.  Now  that  the  years  have  passed  and  my  life  is 
nearly  over,  I  find  myself  in  authority  —  the  mother  of  a 
divine  household.  I  know  how  solemn,  how  tender,  and 
potent  are  the  influences  at  work  here,  for  they  have 
given  me  a  soul.  When  I  think,  then,  that  I  am  now 
their  mouth-piece,  the  medium  through  which  they  must 
reach  others,  I  am  filled  with  a  wonder  that  is  well-nigh 
fear.  To  be  free  from  earthly  passions,  to  empty  my  life 
of  all  personal  desires,  to  listen  only  to  these  holy  voices, 
and  repeat  their  counsels  and  direct  the  life  of  this  house- 
hold in  harmony  with  them,  —  this  is  my  duty.  Do  you 
think  if  this  does  not  bring  me  joy,  that  love  would  ? 

"  I  hope  you  will  see  the  child  you  speak  of  again. 
Although  you  said  very  little  of  her,  I  seemed  to  see  her 
as  clearly  as  if  I  had  been  with  you.  Why  don't  you  give 
your  fancy  a  reality  ?  If  you  will  take  her  for  your  own 
and  will  trust  her  to  me,  I  will  make  a  place  for  her  here 
in  our  school.  The  education  she  will  receive  cannot  be 
excelled,  and  the  very  beauty  of  our  gardens  and  groves, 
the  innocence  and  simplicity  of  the  life  here,  the  gentle 
natures  of  those  who  will  instruct  her,  can  influence  her 
only  toward  the  ideals  you  wish  her  to  possess.  I  believe 
that  such  an  interest  as  this  charge  would  bring  you,  is  all 
that  your  noble  heart  needs  to  fill  your  life  with  happi- 
ness. Do  this  and  let  me  help  you.  I  will  watch  over 
her  for  her  sake,  for  yours,  and  for  my  own." 


CHAPTER   IV 

LITTLE  Hilda,  having  so  much  of  the  care 
of  the  household  put  upon  her  while  so 
young,  had  learned  many  things  that  chil- 
dren seldom  know.  Before  she  was  seven 
years  old  she  could  tell  the  time  by  the 
round  wooden  clock  on  the  wall.  She  was 
a  very  busy  and  contented  little  housewife. 
There  were  many  days  when  her  mother  did 
not  leave  her  bed.  Hilda  was  up  with  the 
sun  to  help  her  father  with  the  breakfast. 
She  knew  how  to  make  corn  bread,  could 
boil  or  fry  or  poach  eggs,  and  was  now  learn- 
ing how  to  make  an  omelet.  Corn  meal 
they  always  had,  for  Jean  Pilliod  saw  to  this. 
There  were  times  in  the  winter  when  corn 
meal  and  potatoes  were  their  only  food.  But 
in  summer,  a  little  vegetable  garden  supplied 
them  with  carrots,  parsnips,  turnips,  onions, 
and  beets.  Jean  Pilliod  allowed  them,  also, 
all  the  eggs  that  were  laid  in  the  haystack 
and  grassy  hollows  near  their  hut.  Hilda 

83 


84  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

learned  to  care  for  the  garden,  to  cook  the 
meals,  to  sweep  with  a  little  broom,  to  wash 
up  the  dishes  and  put  things  to  rights.  All 
this  kept  her  busy.  Light-hearted  and 
happy  as  she  was,  her  childish  fancy  con- 
verted these  tasks  into  a  form  of  play.  Every 
vegetable  of  the  garden  had  its  name  to  her. 
She  would  chatter  to  the  dishes  as  she  washed 
them  and  imagine  that  the  meal  she  was 
preparing  was  the  wedding  feast  of  her 
favourite  daughter  Alice,  a  poor  little  apple- 
faced  creature  with  one  arm  pulled  off  and 
a  wide  crack  in  one  of  her  glossy  china 
cheeks.  This  wonderful  wedding  had  been 
taking  place  for  so  long  and  so  many  amaz- 
ing features  had  been  added  each  time,  that 
the  occasion  had  become  a  magnificent  affair. 
Amid  what  fantastic  scenes  do  children 
move !  It  would  be  interesting  to  know 
at  what  age  these  images  of  feasts  and  fes- 
tivals begin  to  form.  We  pass  so  uncon- 
sciously through  this  glorious  period  into 
the  humdrum  world  of  real  men  that  no 
record  has  ever  been  kept,  and  the  prat- 
tling of  babes  astonishes  us.  A  word  or  a 
look  escapes  them  and  we  dimly  realize  that 
they  are  dwelling  in  another  world  than  ours. 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  85 

This  feeling  of  surprise  is  not  softened  by 
memory  with  most  of  us,  for  we  have  forgot- 
ten the  fairyland  of  childhood. 

Hilda's  mother  had  once  been  able  to 
repeat  to  her  the  songs  and  stories  of  her 
own  girlhood.  She  had  taken  her  part  in 
all  the  merry,  active  life  of  the  child.  Now 
that  she  could  hardly  leave  her  chair  during 
her  best  days,  and  was  more  and  more  fre- 
quently confined  to  her  bed,  the  heartsick- 
ness  she  felt  was  not  for  her  own  pains  and 
weakness,  but  for  the  dread  of  her  little 
daughter's  loneliness.  Hilda,  however,  with 
the  ease  of  a  child  was  able  to  turn  even  this 
misfortune  into  a  means  of  delight.  The 
mother  did  her  part  in  the  mere  desire  that 
her  suffering  should  not  become  a  shadow  on 
her  child's  life.  True  love  is  the  wisest  of 
all  teachers,  for  it  opens  the  ears  of  the  soul 
to  the  voices  of  nature.  There  is  nothing 
more  natural  than  joyous  industry.  A  loving 
mother  will  rear  good  housewives  as  a  faith- 
ful duck  a  brood  that  can  swim.  No  one 
who  has  not  experienced  and  remembered  it 
can  know  with  what  pride  Hilda  did  the  work 
of  the  house.  She  felt  an  almost  delicious 
ecstasy  in  the  knowledge  that  her  mother 


86  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

was  helpless  and  dependent  on  her.  One 
of  the  village  doctors,  paid  by  the  town  to 
look  after  the  poor,  came  now  and  then  and 
left  medicine.  One  day  when  he  was  giving 
his  instructions  to  the  invalid,  Hilda  said  a 
little  shyly,  but  with  determination  in  her 
voice,  "  Why  don't  you  tell  me,  doctor,  what 
to  do  ?  I  am  taking  care  of  mamma,  now." 

The  doctor  and  the  mother  smiled,  but 
after  this  she  was  told,  and  the  doctor  soon 
learned  that  he  could  well  trust  her.  Once 
he  taught  her  how  to  feel  the  pulse  and  let 
her  hold  his  big  silver  watch  in  her  hand 
while  she  counted.  She  was  too  much  ex- 
cited to  notice  either  the  time  or  the  pulse, 
but  she  counted  over  and  over,  as  fast  as  she 
could,  from  one  to  twelve,  for  this  was  all 
she  knew. 

"A  little  girl  like  you,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  ought  to  count  a  hundred  at  least." 

She  became  silent  at  once  and  moved  a 
little  way  from  him.  There  she  stood,  glad 
to  be  forgotten  in  her  shame,  until  he  left. 

"  Mamma,"  she  whispered,  coming  close 
to  the  bed,  "  please  teach  me  to  a  hundred." 

In  a  few  days  she  had  learned  this  lesson, 
for  she  studied  it  in  all  she  did.  She  counted 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  87 

the  dishes  as  she  washed  them,  the  strokes 
of  her  broom  as  she  swept,  and  her  mother, 
listening  from  her  bed,  would  correct  her. 
When  the  work  inside  was  done,  she  would 
go  to  the  garden  if  her  mother  was  able  to 
sit  in  the  doorway,  or,  if  not,  she  would  sit 
by  her  side  and  play  with  dolls  or  sing  her 
to  sleep  or  pretend  to  be  the  doctor  and 
count  her  pulse.  This  she  learned  to  do 
accurately. 

Her  father  came  and  went,  almost  unno- 
ticed. He  seldom  spoke  when  he  was  there, 
but  sat  in  his  chair,  smoking  and  looking 
stupidly  at  his  boots.  He  was  forgotten 
when  he  was  away.  Sometimes  he  fright- 
ened her  a  little  when  he  came  home  in  the 
night,  laughing  and  talking  to  himself. 

Alone  with  her  mother,  she  was,  from  sun- 
rise until  three  o'clock,  a  happy,  busy  little 
housebody,  with  seemingly  no  desire  unsatis- 
fied. In  the  afternoon,  when  the  round-faced 
clock  struck  three,  she  would  listen  a  mo- 
ment, counting  the  strokes,  her  head  held  as 
a  robin's  when  it  notes  a  sound.  She  would 
drop  her  little  hoe  in  the  garden,  or  her  dolls 
upon  the  floor,  and,  running  to  her  mother, 
cry  eagerly,  "  I  must  go  now,  mamma.  It  is 


88  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

three  o'clock.  Oh,  I  must  hurry  and  meet 
Pierre." 

There  had  never  been  any  opposition  to 
this.  Hilda's  joy  was  her  mother's.  The 
invalid  never  thought  herself  deserted.  She 
would  close  her  eyes  and  listen,  in  fancy,  to 
her  child's  voice,  and  follow  her,  running 
over  the  fields.  Sometimes  the  whim  of  the 
children  brought  them  near  the  hut,  and  she 
caught  the  gust  of  their  passing.  Sometimes 
they  tunnelled  in  the  haystack  not  far  away, 
or  played  on  the  shore  where  she  could  watch 
them,  from  her  bed,  through  the  window. 
Perhaps  Hilda  would  run  to  her  with  a  flower 
or  a  pretty  stone  she  had  found,  or  bring  for 
her  compassion  a  grasshopper  with  a  broken 
leg,  a  bird  that  had  fallen  from  its  nest.  She 
never  thought  of  asking  the  children  to  stay 
near  her.  When  she  heard  their  voices 
approaching  or  saw  them  come  into  her  view, 
her  eyes  grew  moist  with  happiness.  She 
felt  that  God  wished  in  this  way  to  be  good 
to  her. 

Hilda,  when  she  left  the  hut  at  three, 
would  run  down  the  long,  grassy  road  that 
divided  the  fields,  to  the  other  end  of  the 
island  near  Maumee.  Here  she  would  sit  on 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  89 

a  stone  under  a  great  willow  tree  and  watch 
the  crest  of  the  bluff  at  the  point  where  the 
path  downward  began.  The  stream  was 
quite  narrow  here,  and  very  still,  except  in 
the  early  spring,  so  Pierre  could  safely  push 
himself  across  on  his  way  to  and  from  school, 
in  a  little  flatboat  built  for  his  use.  Hilda 
would  sit  quietly  and  watch  until  Pierre  ap- 
peared, his  books  under  his  arm.  If  he  stood, 
as  he  sometimes  did,  for  a  long  time  on  the 
line,  looking  over  the  island  and  far  away, 
not  seeing  her  at  all,  or,  if  he  only  smiled  at 
her  and  came  quietly  down  the  path  to  his 
boat,  she  remained  seated  on  her  stone, 
watching  him  in  silence.  If  he  looked 
toward  her  at  once,  as  he  more  often  did, 
and  waved  his  hand  or  shouted,  or  came 
hurrying  down  the  hill,  she  would  jump  to 
her  feet  and  laugh  and  call  to  him.  She  was 
instantly  alive  to  a  thousand  things  they 
would  soon  be  doing,  and  could  not  stand 
still  while  he  pushed  across.  It  was  not  that 
she  was  happier  when  Pierre  was  gay.  She 
loved  the  quiet  afternoons  when  he  wished 
only  to  lie  in  the  grass  and  watch  the  clouds 
form  and  float  and  dissolve.  She  loved  to 
romp  over  the  fields,  to  hunt  for  pretty 


90  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

stones  and  explore  the  jungles,  to  build 
cities  and  palaces,  or  dig  mysterious  caves 
in  the  haystack,  as  well.  It  was  all  one  to 
her,  so  long  as  she  was  with  Pierre.  Of 
course  there  was  no  conscious  design  on  her 
part.  It  was  as  natural  for  her  to  reflect 
his  mood  as  it  is  for  the  moon  flower  to 
increase  in  yellow  with  the  fulness  of  the 
moon. 

Alone,  Hilda  was  contented  with  the 
things  about  her.  She  could  tie  an  apron  to 
her  bed-post  and  put  a  bonnet  on  its  knob 
and  believe  here  was  a  pleasant  companion 
for  a  day.  She  talked  to  the  bushes,  made 
princesses  and  gay  maids-in-waiting  out  of 
rags.  Whenever  she  looked  at  the  frying- 
pan,  it  had  a  good  word  for  her.  If  a  bird 
alighted  near  her,  she  was  glad  to  be  agreea- 
ble while  it  chose  to  stay,  but  she  felt  no 
regret  when  it  flew. 

With  Pierre  she  caught  something  of  his 
spirit.  Distance  was  the  magnet  of  his  soul. 
Sometimes,  he,  too,  would  delight  in  the 
things  at  hand,  but  it  was  only  because  he 
was  able  for  the  moment  to  imagine  himself 
in  some  far-off  place.  All  the  delight  of  a 
fabulous  world  lay  for  him  just  beyond  the 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  91 

line  of  his  vision.  He  was  very  stupid  in 
school,  and  seemed  to  his  teacher  to  learn 
nothing.  There  were,  however,  certain 
names  in  his  geography  and  certain  pic- 
tures that  were  far  more  real  to  him  than 
Maumee  or  Perrysburg.  Madagascar,  Con- 
stantinople, Andalusia  —  these  were  the  world. 
He  had  no  thought  of  distance.  Everything 
he  longed  for  was  just  beyond  the  horizon. 
The  outlines  of  the  great  city  down  the  river 
were  the  turrets  and  round  temple  domes  of 
Constantinople.  Madagascar  was  just  back 
of  the  faint  line  of  woods  across  the  river  to 
the  east.  He  could  not  have  described  any 
of  these  places.  They  were  only  wonderful, 
vague,  glittering,  musical,  full  of  colour  and 
delight.  They  were  like  the  sounds  of  their 
names.  It  was  to  these  places  the  clouds 
were  bound,  and  here  the  birds  went  when 
they  flew  away.  He  would  sometimes  lie 
quietly,  so  far  as  his  body  was  concerned, 
watching  this  constant  flight  of  birds,  feeling 
the  wind  as  it  hurried  past  him,  dreaming 
of  the  things  they  saw  and  heard,  and  Hilda, 
sitting  as  quietly  beside  him,  felt  all  the  time, 
without  knowing  it,  that  he  longed  for  some- 
thing. Then  he  would  jump  from  the  ground 


92  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

and  run  swiftly  across  the  fields  in  pursuit  of 
a  cloud  or  a  bird,  and  she,  hurrying  after  him, 
hoped  with  all  the  passion  of  her  heart  that 
they  would  get  what  he  was  after.  But  they 
never  did.  Never.  Pierre  must  always  stop 
at  the  edge  of  the  island  while  the  clouds  moved 
steadily  on  and  the  birds  vanished.  There 
was  always  the  desire  in  Pierre's  soul  to  make 
friends  with  these  pilgrims  from  his  promised 
lands.  He  could  never  see  a  bird  on  a  limb 
near  him  without  wishing  to  hold  it,  to  stroke 
its  soft  throat.  Sometimes  he  would  follow 
a  loiterer  from  bush  to  bush,  his  hand  held 
out,  trying  to  calm  its  fears,  reasoning,  plead- 
ing, urging  countless  assurances  of  tender- 
ness and  good  faith.  Hilda,  following  close 
behind,  would  almost  weep  in  her  wish  for 
his  success.  Her  lips  would  tremble  as  she 
murmured  plaintively :  — 

"  Oh,  good,  dear  birdie,  won't  you  come  ? 
He  wants  you  so.  He  wants  you  so." 

Sometimes,  when  Pierre  was  in  his  boat, 
coming  home,  he  would  look  around  the  end 
of  the  island,  across  the  wide  river  on  the 
other  side,  toward  the  distant  woods,  and 
wonder  if  he  would  ever  dare  to  go  there. 
He  had  been  to  the  city  once,  but  that  was 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  93 

long  ago  and  he  only  knew  he  had  been. 
He  had  a  vague  recollection  of  tall  build- 
ings and  many  sounds  —  of  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  marvellous  things  to  be  seen  if 
he  could  be  there  once  alone  and  not  have 
to  hurry  past  them  and  keep  still.  He  knew 
that  if  he  only  dared,  he  could  float  there  in 
his  boat.  It  rather  frightened  him  to  think 
of  it,  and  yet  he  wished  that  sometime  he 
might  have  the  courage  to  run  away. 

When  he  spoke  of  such  projects  to  Hilda, 
she  was  filled  with  awe  at  his  audacity  and 
terror  at  the  idea  of  going.  Of  course,  if  he 
went,  she  would  be  obliged  to.  She  did  not 
dread  the  city  so  much  as  the  forest,  for  it 
was  in  that  direction  the  ogre  lived.  His 
great  brick  house  could  be  seen  near  the 
edge  of  the  woods. 

After  her  day  with  Mr.  Alexander,  this  fear 
of  the  ogre  grew  less  until  it  vanished.  In 
some  way,  her  memory  of  him  and  her 
thoughts  of  the  ogre  became  confused.  At 
last  she  came  to  think  of  them  as  one,  and 
she  often  wished  that  he  would  visit  her 
again.  It  was  still  a  terrible  thought  to  her, 
this  venturing  away  into  unknown  places,  but 
she  sometimes  wished  to  explore  the  myste- 


94  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

ries  of  his  castle.  She  fancied  herself  and 
Pierre  pounding  on  the  big  door  with  a  stick, 
and  trembled.  Then  when  the  ogre  opened 
it  and  smiled,  as  he  had  when  he  frightened 
her  before,  she  ran  straight  to  him  and  was 
no  longer  afraid.  He  took  them  into  a  room 
rilled  with  birds,  and  one  with  a  great  glass 
tank  full  of  glittering  fish.  There  was  a  long 
hall  with  high  windows,  a  place  of  sunlight 
and  mirrors  and  of  great  content.  Here  were 
countless  dolls  that  laughed  and  talked,  their 
voices  like  little  bells.  They  walked  up  and 
down  with  funny,  mincing  steps,  and  bowed 
and  scraped  to  each  other  very  courteously. 
This  lively  scene  would  always  terminate  in 
a  great  dance,  after  which  a  feast  was  served 
in  a  dining  room  built  entirely  of  glass,  and 
it  was  very  dazzling  with  all  the  lights  ablaze. 
When  she  could  eat  no  more,  she  helped  the 
army  of  doll  servants  clear  up  the  tables  and 
wash  the  dishes,  because  the  ogre  had  once 
said  that  he  wished  he  had  some  one  to  do 
things  for  him.  Then,  being  very  tired,  she 
climbed  on  the  ogre's  knee  and  went  to  sleep. 
This  visit  came  to  be  very  real  to  her,  for 
she  generally  thought  it  all  out  at  least  once, 
whenever  she  was  with  Pierre  and  he  was 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  95 

quiet.  So  now  when  he  spoke  of  the  jour- 
ney she  was  not  so  much  afraid. 

One  day  when  Pierre  appeared  on  the  hill 
on  his  way  from  school,  he  looked  for  some 
time  in  the  direction  of  the  woods.  He  came 
slowly  down  the  path  and  pushed  across  to 
the  island.  He  did  not  get  out,  but  stood 
with  the  pole  in  his  hands.  There  was  an 
unusual  colour  in  his  cheeks  and  a  new  light 
in  his  eyes. 

"  Hilda,"  he  said,  looking  toward  the  little 
girl  still  waiting  patiently  on  her  stone,  "  I 
am  going." 

She  had  felt  what  was  coming  when  he 
began  to  speak.  A  shudder  of  fear  passed 
over  her.  She  gave  a  little  gasp  and  looked 
helplessly  about  her.  He  put  the  pole  in  the 
water  and  pushed  a  little  way  from  shore. 
She  jumped  excitedly  from  her  stone  and 
called,  - 

"  Wait,  wait,  Pierre  !  " 

She  put  her  hand  to  her  mouth  and  tried 
not  to  cry.  She  was  always  ashamed  to  do 
that.  Pierre  instantly  pushed  back,  and  she 
almost  tumbled  into  the  boat  in  her  eager- 
ness. 

It  was  so  great  and  solemn  an  occasion 


96  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

that  not  a  word  was  said.  Hilda,  crouched 
in  one  end  of  the  boat,  held  to  the  sides  as 
if  for  her  life.  Her  eyes  were  riveted  at 
first  on  Pierre,  who  stood  at  the  other  end, 
pushing  steadily  away  from  shore.  They 
came  out  from  between  the  mainland  and 
the  island,  and  soon  the  expanse  of  broad 
river  lay  before  them.  The  shore  on  the 
other  side  seemed  miles  away.  Hilda  looked 
toward  it  once  and  knew  that  they  were 
lost.  She  cast  another  terrified  glance  at 
the  surging  ripples  around  her  and  shut  her 
eyes.  After  a  long,  long  time  of  dread,  she 
felt  the  boat  grate  on  shore  and  opened  her 
eyes  with  a  start. 

"Here's  an  island,"  said  Pierre.  "Let's 
explore  it  first." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  cried  Hilda,  shouting  her  joy 
at  their  escape.  "  What  a  be-u-tiful  place !  " 

It  was,  in  fact,  a  small  pebbly  knoll  that 
rose  out  of  the  water.  A  handful  of  grass 
grew  in  the  centre.  To  Pierre,  however,  it 
was  an  unknown  country  in  the  midst  of  the 
Mediterranean.  The  clump  of  grass  was  a 
jungle  filled  with  friendly  wild  beasts,  and 
strange  hordes  of  kind  and  terrible  savages 
lurked  in  the  mountains.  Here  was  a  ver- 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  97 

dant  island,  unknown  to  white  men,  which 
he  would  now  claim  for  his  own.  To  Hilda 
it  was  not  only  all  this,  because  Pierre  said 
so,  —  it  was  salvation.  Had  she  been  twenty 
years  older,  she  would  have  wept  and  prayed 
in  her  thanksgiving.  As  it  was,  she  whooped 
like  a  little  Indian  and  hoped  that  Pierre 
would  be  satisfied  with  this  for  his  journey. 
For  the  time,  at  least,  he  was  content.  There 
were  other  islands  near,  and  the  afternoon 
passed  before  they  were  all  explored.  Hilda 
grew  used  to  the  boat  and  the  water  and  the 
distance  from  shore  and  began  to  enjoy  her 
adventure. 

"  I  wish  we  could  stay  here  all  night,"  said 
Pierre. 

"  Would  you  dare  ? "  asked  the  girl,  glad 
in  her  heart  that  they  could  not  and  yet 
vaguely  influenced  by  the  other's  desire. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Pierre.  "  I  am  king  here, 
I  guess,  and  I  would  stay,  too,  if  they'd  let 


me." 


By  "  they  "  he  referred  to  his  father  and 
mother,  two  very  disagreeable  people  who 
were  forever  in  his  way. 

As  Pierre  was  still  struggling  with  the 
unhappy  conviction  that  he  must  go  home, 


98  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

a  flock  of  blackbirds  came  out  of  the  west 
toward  him.  He  watched  them  as  they 
approached  and  his  heart  bounded  with  a 
wild  hope. 

"  Lie  down,  Hilda,"  he  cried,  throwing 
himself  flat  upon  the  pebbles ;  "  perhaps  they 
are  coming  here." 

Instantly  the  girl  was  by  his  side,  looking 
upward  as  eagerly  as  he.  We  must  call  this 
host  of  winged  beings  blackbirds  because 
there  is  no  name  for  what  they  really  were. 
If  you  would  know  how  these  children  felt 
as  they  sprawled  upon  the  earth,  gazing  with 
beating  hearts  and  breathless,  you  must  see 
what  they  saw,  —  not  a  flock  of  those  greedy 
pests  of  the  grain  fields,  but  a  company  of 
the  freebooters  of  the  air,  wandering  knights- 
errant  from  enchanted  lands,  mysterious, 
beautiful,  wise  with  the  wisdom  children 
seek.  To  such  boys  as  Pierre,  birds  appeal 
more  than  all  other  living  beings,  because 
for  them  they  represent  an  active  and  bound- 
less liberty.  The  captive  wild  fowl  is  not 
more  desolate  as  he  follows  the  flight  of  his 
kind,  than  was  the  soul  of  Pierre  as  he 
watched  the  birds  speeding  in  their  freedom. 
There  was  no  limit  to  their  powers,  no  hand 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  99 

nor  force  to  detain  them.  They  sometimes 
cocked  knowing  eyes  on  him,  but  never 
spoke.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  if  he  could 
once  gather  some  of  these  all-wise  beings 
about  him  and  establish  an  understanding 
that  he  could  win  their  secrets  and  become 
free  as  they. 

Pierre's  excitement  vanished  as  the  birds 
passed  overhead  without  noticing  him.  He 
stood  up  and  watched  them  sadly.  He  heard 
the  whir  of  their  wings  and  the  sound  of 
their  pleasant  converse.  How  swiftly  they 
passed  !  A  few  moments  and  they  were  like 
a  tiny  black  cloud  that  dissolved  just  over 
the  woods  in  the  distance. 

"  Come  on,  Hilda,  let's  go,"  he  said  gloom- 
ily, getting  into  his  boat.  He  looked  now 
upon  his  new  possessions  and  saw  them  as 
they  were  —  just  a  few  bare  knolls. 

As  the  children  moved  quietly  homeward, 
the  Angelus  echoed  between  the  neighbour- 
ing villages,  and  Pierre  rested  on  his  pole  to 
listen.  He  was  not  conscious  of  the  sound 
nor  of  his  act.  When  it  was  over,  he  could 
not  have  told  you  that  the  bells  had  spoken. 
But  Hilda,  sitting  now  calmly  in  her  end  of 
the  boat,  saw  the  gloom  lift  from  his  face, 


100  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

and  she  was  glad  again.  Of  course,  she  did 
not  know  it  was  in  any  way  due  to  the  bells, 
for  she  was  as  heedless  of  their  sound  as  he. 
She  laughed  when  a  fish  leaped  from  the 
water  near  her,  and  was  not  frightened  when, 
leaning  over  to  look,  the  boat  tipped  with  her. 

"  Pierre,"  she  said,  "  do  you  think  if  we 
drowned,  we  would  be  fishes  ?  " 

When  Pierre  pulled  the  boat  on  shore  he 
had  decided  upon  two  things.  He  would  go 
swimming  that  night,  and  very  soon,  perhaps 
the  next  day,  he  would  start  off  on  his  long 
journey.  These  two  fine  things  to  do  put 
him  in  gay  spirits,  and  he  raced  hand-in- 
hand  with  Hilda  down  the  island  road. 

That  evening,  as  Hilda  was  sitting  on  the 
door-sill,  singing  softly  to  herself  a  little 
greeting  of  her  own  to  the  stars  as  they 
appeared,  Pierre  came  to  her  and  said,  — 

"  I  am  going  swimming." 

"Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  at  once  forgetting 
her  song  and  the  stars, "  I  want  to  go,  too." 

It  was  the  first  swim  of  the  year,  and  no 
calamity  could  be  so  great  as  the  missing  of 
it.  She  ran  at  once  to  her  mother  for  con- 
sent. The  poor  invalid  was  so  weak  that 
she  scarcely  heard.  But,  suffering  as  she 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  IOI 

was,  she  could  still  understand  the  eagerness 
of  her  child's  desire  and  was  more  troubled 
by  it  than  her  own  distress. 

"  Must  you  go  to-night  ? "  she  asked  as 
brightly  as  she  could.  "  Dear  little  daughter, 
don't  go  to-night.  Perhaps  in  a  few  days  I 
can  go  and  sit  near  you." 

Hilda  returned  slowly  to  the  door  and  said 
ruefully,  "  I  can't  go." 

"  I'll  wait  for  you,  then,"  said  Pierre. 

Nothing  in  all  the  world  could  have  brought 
to  Hilda  so  much  joy  as  this.  Pierre,  in  all 
the  time  they  had  been  together,  had  never 
been  unkind  or  thoughtless  toward  her.  But 
there  was  something  in  his  way  of  announc- 
ing his  designs,  in  his  quiet  air  of  self- 
sufficiency  and  spirit  of  abstraction,  that 
made  Hilda  a  little  in  awe  of  him.  She  could 
never  be  sure  that  she  was  included  in  his 
plans,  and  every  revelation  of  the  fact  that 
she  was,  brought  her  a  new  delight.  The 
sacrifice  that  he  now  made  was  so  great  and 
he  made  it  so  willingly,  that  her  little  listen- 
ing heart  caught  the  first  faint  note  of  the 
song  that  must  one  day  fill  it.  She  was  so 
happy  that  her  lips  trembled  —  a  rare  expres- 
sion of  joy  with  her. 


102  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

She  sat  down  by  Pierre  on  the  doorstep 
and  tried  to  think  of  something  that  would 
please  him.  She  began  to  feel,  however, 
very  soon,  that  he  was  busy  with  his  own 
thoughts,  and  she  sat  contented  and  silent 
beside  him. 

She  followed  his  gaze  down  the  river  and 
watched,  with  something  of  his  own  feeling, 
the  play  of  lights  above  the  city.  Above 
and  around  them  was  the  dark  night.  Down 
there  the  sky  was  aglow.  Night  after  night 
Pierre  had  seen  this  shining  cloud  of  prom- 
ise. He  listened  to  the  wind  in  the  trees 
and  bushes  without  thinking  of  it  as  the 
wind.  It  was  a  voice  whispering  of  the 
wonders  of  that  region  beneath  the  glowing 
sky.  He  saw  the  reflection  of  the  stars  upon 
the  ripples,  and  it  was  for  him  a  fleet  of  fairy 
boats  that  had  strayed  here  for  a  while  from 
that  enchanted  land.  Why  was  he  not  there  ? 
To-morrow  he  would  go.  How  he  conveyed 
all  this  to  Hilda  it  is  impossible  to  tell. 
One  must  become  a  child  again  to  get  it  as 
Hilda  did.  But  suddenly  all  these  plans  and 
speculations  were  broken.  From  far  away 
came  a  voice,  which  even  the  distance  and 
the  mild  night  wind  that  bore  it  could  not 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  103 

soften,  calling  to  Pierre.  The  boy  frowned 
and  moved  uneasily.  Then  he  rose  and 
turned  to  go.  He  had  stayed  out  too  late, 
and  there  would  be  trouble.  He  had  hardly 
left  the  hut  when  he  met  his  grandfather, 
Jean  Pilliod. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  the  old  man,  kindly. 
He  gave  a  long  "  haloo "  in  answer  to  his 
daughter's  call  and  led  the  way  back  to  the 
hut. 

He  stopped  by  the  door  a  moment  to 
speak  with  Hilda,  and  then  going  inside,  he 
lit  the  lamp  and  drew  his  chair  by  the  bed- 
side. The  invalid  greeted  him  with  a  pitiful 
smile,  and  without  a  word  broke  into  feeble 
weeping.  Jean  Pilliod  took  her  hand  and 
caressed  it  with  his  hard,  bent  fingers. 

"  There  —  there,"  he  said,  "  why  do  you 
cry  ?  Are  you  suffering  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  am  dying,"  she  whispered.  It  was  the 
sound  of  his  gentle  voice  as  he  spoke  to 
Hilda  that  had  made  her  weep.  As  soon 
as  she  could  control  her  voice,  she  said :  — 

"  I  don't  know  when  it  will  come,  but  it 
will  be  soon  now.  When  I  am  dead,  send 
Hilda  to  the  asylum.  I  went  there  often  to 
see,  while  I  was  still  strong  enough  to  walk. 


104  A  PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

They  are  good  to  the  children.  But  I  want 
you  to  see  that  she  finds  a  good  home." 

"  I  will  promise  you  that,"  he  replied 
simply.  He  knew  that  she  would  not  live 
long,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  speak  as 
though  she  would. 

"  I  wish  I  could  take  her  myself,"  he  added, 
"  but  I  am  growing  old,  and  my  good  woman 
is  dead.  My  son's  wife  would  not  want  to  be 
bothered.  Even  Pierre  seems  to  be  a  trouble 
to  her." 

"  You  will  put  her  in  the  asylum  at  once  ?  " 
asked  the  mother,  anxiously. 

He  knew  what  she  meant.  She  would  not 
even  think  unkindly  of  her  husband,  but  she 
did  not  want  her  child  left  to  his  neglect. 

"  I  will.     You  need  not  worry  about  that." 

He  told  her  he  would  send  the  doctor  in 
the  morning.  He  lifted  Hilda  from  the  door- 
step and  held  her  a  moment  in  his  arms. 
Then  he  kissed  her  good-night,  and  taking 
Pierre  by  the  hand,  trudged  home. 

"  I  took  Pierre  with  me  to  the  hut,"  he 
explained  and  so  diverted  the  boy's  trouble 
to  himself.  He  took  his  scolding  placidly, 
for  in  his  own  house  he  was  much  deafer 
than  elsewhere.  An  hour  later,  Pierre 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  105 

climbed  out  of  his  window  and  raced  over 
the  fields  with  the  wind. 

When  he  was  weary,  he  curled  up  in  the 
cave  in  the  haystack  and  slept,  surrounded 
by  his  buccaneers.  Just  before  sunrise  he 
awoke  and  returned  to  his  bed  and  the 
strange  stale  existence  of  his  home  and 
school. 

When  Jean  Pilliod  put  Hilda  down,  she 
rubbed  her  mouth  with  her  sleeve  and  made 
a  wry  face.  She  ran  laughing  to  her  mother, 
saying,  "  I  don't  like  Grandpa  Pilliod's 
kisses,  'cause  his  beard  tickles."  Then,  see- 
ing that  her  mother  was  weeping,  she  stood 
still  and  was  frightened. 

"Come  here,  Hilda,"  said  her  mother, 
smiling ;  "  be  my  little  nurse  for  a  while. 
Take  my  handkerchief  first  and  wipe  these 
mean  old  tears  away." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  Hilda,  all  happiness  at 
once,  "  we  won't  have  them,  will  we  ? " 

She  climbed  on  the  bed  and  settled  herself 
by  her  mother's  head,  gently  stroking  it,  croon- 
ing the  song  she  had  just  made  to  the  stars. 
It  was  not  long  before  she  fell  asleep  to  her 
own  lullaby. 


CHAPTER  V 

HILDA  was  awakened  in  the  night  by  a 
peculiar  noise.  The  oil  in  the  lamp  had 
burned  out  and  the  place  was  in  darkness. 
A  path  of  moonlight  stretched  across  the 
floor  from  the  open  door,  and  her  father, 
grown  sleepy  and  stupid  from  the  beer  he 
had  consumed,  had  followed  this  pathway 
until  it  brought  him  against  the  wall.  Here 
he  stood  for  some  time,  rubbing  over  it  with 
his  outstretched  hands,  knocking  against  it 
with  his  knees  and  toes. 

"  Come,  now,"  he  murmured  in  a  coaxing 
voice.  "  Lemmy  in,  Hilda,"  he  whimpered ; 
"  open  the  door." 

While  Hilda  was  staring  at  him  half 
asleep,  her  mother  drew  her  gently  down 
beside  her. 

"  He's  just  talking  to  himself,"  she  said. 
"Don't  mind  about  it,  little  one." 

"  What  makes  him  do  that,  mamma  ?  " 

"  There,  never  mind.     Go  to  sleep  again, 

106 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  107 

can't  you?  He's  stretched  himself  on  the 
floor.  He'll  be  quiet  now.  What  was  the 
song  you  were  singing  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  am  so  sleepy,"  said  the  child,  nestling 
closer.  She  had  never  before  been  permitted 
to  sleep  with  her  mother  and  was  afraid  that 
she  would  have  to  undress  and  climb  into 
her  crib.  It  was  so  odd,  however,  that  she 
could  not  help  speaking  of  it. 

"  I  am  all  dressed,  ain't  I  ?  But  you  don't 
care,  do  you,  dear? " 

"  Not  to-night.  Stay  close  to  me  to-night. 
Perhaps  —  I  shall  leave  you  soon." 

Hilda  felt  that  her  mother  was  distressed, 
but  she  gathered  nothing  from  her  words. 

"  Are  you  afraid  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  I  am  going  away — oh,  don't  you  under- 
stand, Hilda?  I  am  going  to  die." 

These  words  meant  nothing  to  the  child, 
for  she  knew  nothing  of  death,  and  could  not 
conceive  of  her  mother  leaving  her.  But 
the  troubled  and  fear-stricken  heart  of  her 
mother  found  some  way  to  speak  to  her. 
She  was  frightened  and  began  to  cry.  The 
poor  woman  was  brought  quickly  to  her- 
self. 

"There,  there,  my  little  one,"  she  said. 


108  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  Did  I  frighten  you  ?  You  must  not  cry. 
Mamma  is  going  to  a  beautiful  place  as 
bright  and  beautiful  as  the  city  you  and 
Pierre  have  built." 

"  Are  you  going  down  the  river  where  the 
light  is  ? " 

"  Would  you  like  to  think  that  I  am  there? " 

"  Why,  mamma,  do  you  know  that  Pierre 
and  me  are  going  there,  too  ?  You'll  wait 
for  us,  won't  you  ?  " 

"If  I  can,  little  daughter.  But  if  I  am 
gone  some  day,  you  must  not  cry,  but  think 
of  the  beautiful  place  where  the  light  is,  and 
that  I  am  there  waiting  for  you." 

"And  Pierre,  mamma, — for  me  and  Pierre." 

"  Now  sing  me  your  little  song  again." 

Hilda  tried  hard  to  remember  it,  but  the 
next  thing  she  knew  the  sparrows  were  chirp- 
ing and  chattering  by  the  window,  and  the 
sun  was  shining  on  the  bed.  She  sat  up  and 
rubbed  her  eyes. 

"  Why,  it's  morning,"  she  said. 

Her  mother  was  awake  and  smiling.  The 
cool  breath  of  morning,  moist  and  sweet  from 
the  dewy  earth,  came  through  the  door. 

"He  is  gone,"  said  the.  mother.  "I  told 
him  not  to  waken  you." 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  109 

"  I  feel  awful  mussy,"  said  Hilda,  as  she 
jumped  from  the  bed.  But  she  knew  what 
to  do.  In  a  moment  she  had  pulled  her  tub 
from  under  her  washstand.  She  brought 
water  from  the  river  until  it  was  half  full. 
A  moment  more  and  she  was  splashing  in 
her  bath  as  merrily  as  a  robin  in  a  pool. 
When  she  jumped  out,  her  sweet  little  body 
was  all  aglow,  and  her  eyes  were  sparkling 
with  pure  physical  delight.  No  one  had 
taught  this  mother  and  child  how  to  live. 
Such  as  these  are  the  real  glory  of  the  civili- 
zation from  which  they  spring,  as  the  flowers 
of  the  lonely  wilderness,  rather  than  the  gar- 
dens of  princes,  reveal  the  beauty  of  the 
earth. 

It  was  now  the  first  week  in  May,  and  this 
was  a  perfect  morning  of  the  season.  The 
rains  of  spring  had  fallen,  the  winds  no  longer 
hurried  here  and  there  in  restless  gusts.  The 
sun  shone  with  dazzling  brightness,  but  the 
air  was  cool  and  moist.  A  warm,  sweet  odour 
rose  from  the  earth.  The  grass  was  now  a 
deep  rich  green,  and  every  bush  and  tree  was 
laden  with  young  leaves.  Such  birds  as  were 
successfully  mated  were  busy  at  nest  building; 
but  now  and  then  a  tardy  lover  proclaimed 


1 10  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

his  virtues  from  a  swaying  bough,  or  some 
unfortunate  one  uttered  his  low  complaint. 
And  there  were  young  husbands,  too,  who 
stopped  for  a  moment  in  their  labour  to  sing, 
just  for  the  joy  of  living. 

Hilda,  rosy  from  her  bath,  dressed  all  in 
fresh  clothes,  was  as  true  a  creature  of  the 
season  and  the  day  as  any  bird  or  blossom 
or  leafy  twig  of  the  fields.  She  brought  a 
basin  of  water  and  helped  her  mother  bathe. 
She  cooked  their  breakfast  and  put  the  room 
to  rights,  singing  as  she  worked.  As  she 
was  sweeping  the  dust  out  the  door,  a  little 
yellow  butterfly  flew  past  her  into  the  room. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Butterfly,"  she  said, 
and  then  reminded  of  a  game  she  loved  she 
quickly  put  her  broom  into  its  corner  and 
ran  toward  the  bed,  calling :  "  Oh,  mamma, 
let's  play  *  Lady  come  to  see.'  Here  is  a 
caller  already,  and  I'll  be  Mrs.  —  " 

She  stopped  suddenly,  for  her  mother 
seemed  asleep.  She  lay  quietly  with  her 
eyes  closed.  A  single  tremor  passed  through 
the  child's  body,  for  there  was  an  expression 
on  the  white  still  face  she  had  never  seen. 
It  was  only  a  moment,  however,  for  her 
mother  had  often  fallen  asleep  as  they  played, 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  in 

and  now  her  face  seemed  very  beautiful.  The 
butterfly  was  beating  against  the  window  near 
the  bed,  and  Hilda  tiptoed  to  it. 

"  We  must  go  outside  and  play,"  she  whis- 
pered. She  closed  her  hands  carefully  over 
her  visitor  and  carried  it  to  the  door,  laugh- 
ing because  its  legs  and  wings  tickled  her 
palms.  Tossing  it  into  the  air,  she  ran  after 
it  as  light  of  heart  and  aimless  as  was  ever  a 
thistle-blow  borne  from  its  stem,  to  its  for- 
tune, on  a  random  wind. 

For  an  hour  she  strayed  in  the  fields 
among  the  hosts  of  her  gay  little  kindred. 
Returning,  she  was  met  by  the  doctor  and 
Jean  Pilliod. 

The  old  farmer's  voice  trembled  a  little  as 
he  said,  "  Come,  Hilda,  your  mother  wants 
you  to  go  with  me." 

The  child  did  not  even  look  back  upon  the 
home  she  was  leaving.  True  to  her  nature, 
she  caught  something  of  the  feeling  of  the 
two  men  and  walked  silently  beside  them, 
wondering. 

They  found  Jane  Pilliod,  the  wife  of  Jean's 
son  Alphonse,  in  the  kitchen.  Her  face  was 
red,  and  her  rolled-up  sleeves  revealed  two 
sinewy  arms.  She  challenged  the  entrance 


112  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

of  the  old  man  and  the  child  with  a  glance 
of  her  sharp  eyes. 

"  She's  gone,"  said  Jean,  cautiously. 

"Oh,  she's  dead,  is  she?" 

"  Hush,  Jane,  the  little  one  don't  know. 
She'll  be  less  trouble  to  you,  if  —  " 

"  She'll  be  trouble  enough,  poor  young 
one.  I  can't  have  her  on  my  hands,  though, 
and  that's  settled." 

"  I'll  take  her  to  the  asylum  in  a  day  or 
two.  Be  good  to  her,  Jane." 

"  Hilda,  throw  those  old  flowers  out  doors. 
You  will  be  littering  up  the  whole  house 
with  them." 

Hilda  had  been  standing  quietly  by  Jean 
Pilliod,  holding  one  of  his  hands.  Her  face 
was  flushed,  and  she  looked  steadily  at  a 
crack  in  the  floor.  Now  she  pulled  him 
down  toward  her,  and,  reaching  up,  whis- 
pered, "  Can't  I  go  home,  please  ? " 

"  Not  now,  little  one.  You  stay  here,  like 
a  good  girl,  and  I  will  bring  Pierre." 

Hilda  went  to  the  door  and  tossed  the 
flowers  she  had  been  clutching  upon  the 
ground.  Then  she  shyly  sidled  to  a  chair, 
as  far  from  Jane  as  possible,  and  climbed  upon 
its  edge.  For  a  long  time  she  sat  there 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  113 

while  Mrs.  Pilliod  bustled  about.  Once, 
when  she  was  alone  for  a  few  moments,  she 
ventured  to  make  herself  more  comfortable. 
Suddenly  Mrs.  Pilliod  pushed  another  chair 
before  her  and  placed  a  pan  of  potatoes  on  it. 

"  Wash  those,"  she  said.  "  I  guess  it 
won't  hurt  you  to  do  something." 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Hilda.  In  a  mo- 
ment she  was  almost  happy. 

"  Can  I  pare  them,  please  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  You  wouldn't  pare  them  thin  enough." 

"  Oh,  I  can  do  it  just  as  thin  as  anything 
and  dig  all  the  eyes  out,  too." 

"  Well,  I'll  bake  them  now.  I  haven't  time 
to  watch  you." 

Hilda  slipped  from  her  chair  and  went 
toward  the  shelf  where  the  pans  were  kept. 

"  Shall  I  take  this  to  rinse  them  in  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  forgot  that.  It's  a  wonder  I 
remember  anything  with  all  I  have  to  do." 

"  I  guess  you  must  be  awful  busy." 

"Humph!" 

"  You  have  such  a  big  house.  I  only  have 
a  little  place  to  mind,  but  it  keeps  me  busy, 
too." 

"  There,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Pilliod, "  don't  talk 
so  much.  You  bother  me." 


114  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

There  was  a  touch  of  kindness  in  the 
voice,  however,  and  Hilda  felt  this  more 
than  the  reproof.  She  kept  very  quiet,  and 
rinding  she  could  do  nothing  more  went  to 
sit  on  the  door-sill.  When  Alphonse  came 
in  from  the  field  at  noon,  he  heard  her  sing- 
ing softly  to  herself. 

"  She  seems  to  be  happy,"  he  said  to  his 
wife. 

"She'll  make  fuss  enough  when  night 
comes,"  she  replied. 

Jean  Pilliod  came,  bringing  Pierre.  The 
boy  was  filled  with  wonder  at  the  unexpected 
holiday  and  the  fact  that  his  grandfather  had 
come  for  him.  The  children  sat  quietly  to- 
gether at  the  table,  under  the  restraint  of  the 
unusual,  feeling  what  they  could  not  under- 
stand. 

"Will  there  be  a  funeral?"  asked  Al- 
phonse. 

"  Of  course  not,"  replied  his  wife.  "  The 
town  must  bury  her." 

"When  will  they  come  for  her?" 

"  This  afternoon,"  said  Jean  Pilliod,  sol- 
emnly. 

"You  must  stay  around  here,"  Jane  said 
to  the  children,  as  they  hurried  outdoors 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  115 

after  dinner.  They  hardly  heard  her.  They 
were  eager  to  get  away.  Pierre  had  no  idea 
of  what  was  happening,  but  he  felt  the  pres- 
ence of  a  mystery.  Hilda  was  anxious  to 
tell  him  what  she  knew  and  had  been  think- 
ing about.  As  soon  as  they  were  alone  she 
said :  — 

"  Pierre,  my  mamma  has  gone.  She's  gone 
to  the  beautiful  place  down  the  river.  She 
couldn't  wait  for  us,  Pierre.  She  ain't  over 
there  any  more,  and  I  can't  ever  go  back,  I 
guess." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  Pierre  looked  from 
her  to  the  hut  across  the  island,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  She  told  me." 

"  She  ain't  there  any  more  ? " 

"  No.     Oh,  Pierre !  I  want  to  go  to  her." 

"Come  on,  then.  Let's  see  first  if  she's 
gone." 

Pierre  took  Hilda's  hand  and  they  started 
toward  the  hut. 

"  Pierre  !  Pierre  ! "  called  the  sharp  voice 
of  his  mother.  "Come  back  here.  Didn't 
I  tell  you  not  to  go  away  ? " 

The  boy  cast  a  look  of  hatred  toward  the 
house. 


Il6  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

As  the  culprits  returned,  Mrs.  Pilliod  stood 
in  the  doorway  watching  them. 

"  Now  you  come  in  here !  I'll  see  whether 
you  will  mind  me  or  not !  " 

Pierre  entered  in  sullen  silence  and  Hilda 
followed,  pulling  at  her  apron.  She  stood 
for  a  moment  near  the  door  until  she  found 
the  courage  to  say :  — 

"  Please  don't  be  angry  at  Pierre.  I  asked 
him  to  go.  I  forgot." 

"  Go  into  the  parlour,  both  of  you,  and  be 
quiet." 

The  parlour  was  a  place  Pierre  had  seen 
only  when  sent  there  as  a  punishment.  It 
was  his  prison.  His  idea  of  a  dungeon  was 
a  gloomy,  silent  room  like  this.  The  blinds 
were  always  closed,  the  air  was  musty  from 
long  confinement.  The  pictures  on  the  wall 
were  veiled  with  netting.  The  sombre  furni- 
ture seemed  to  watch  him,  frowning.  He 
had  never  dared  to  sit  upon  the  forbidding 
chairs.  The  yawning  lounge  seemed  wait- 
ing to  devour  him.  There  was  a  thick  rag 
carpet  on  the  floor,  and  the  silence  of  his 
tread  filled  him  with  fear.  He  had  been 
shut  in  here  from  time  to  time  since  he  was 
three  years  old.  All  the  nameless  terrors  of 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  117 

his  infancy  were  still  here,  modified,  perhaps, 
by  his  growing  knowledge  and  by  his  cour- 
age, but  no  less  real.  If  Hilda  had  come 
here  first  alone,  she  would  have  made  friends 
with  everything  at  once,  but,  entering  with 
Pierre,  she  was  affected  by  his  feeling. 

"What's  in  here?"  she  asked  in  a  voice 
of  awe  as  the  door  closed  behind  them. 
The  presence  of  Hilda  made  Pierre  bolder. 
Called  upon  by  her  question,  his  imagina- 
tion sought  for  an  instant  to  give  form  and 
substance  to  the  terrors  of  the  place,  and 
failing,  they  began  to  fade. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  he  said.  He  flung  an 
almost  contemptuous  glance  at  the  lounge. 
Half  an  hour  later  they  were  safely  concealed 
in  a  cave,  made  by  piling  the  chairs  across 
one  corner  of  the  room.  Here  they  crouched, 
now  holding  their  breath,  now  peering  con- 
stantly forth  at  a  host  of  strange  pursuers. 
There  was  still  enough  of  gloom  and  the 
old  sense  of  fear  left  to  give  to  their  play  an 
added  degree  of  delight.  When  tired  of  the 
cave,  it  became  a  ship.  As  they  began  to 
float  away  in  this,  Hilda  said,  clapping  her 
hands  joyfully, — 

"  Oh,  look,  Pierre,  mamma  is  here,  too." 


Il8  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

Pierre  stopped  working  at  the  sail  and 
became  thoughtful. 

"  To-night,"  he  said,  "  we  will  go  and  see 
if  she  is  there." 

"  But  let's  play  she  is  here  now." 

"No;  we  are  on  a  long  voyage  to  find 
her." 

"  I  wish  she  was  here,"  said  Hilda,  almost 
tearfully. 

"All  right,"  said  Pierre;  "we  will  make 
her  a  nice  bed  to  lie  on." 

They  took  the  crocheted  cover  from  the 
back  of  the  lounge  and  arranged  it  in  the 
corner. 

Hilda  sat  by  her  mother,  and  Pierre  stood 
by  the  mast  to  scan  the  horizon. 

"I  think,"  he  said,  "that  a  storm  is 
coming." 

He  made  a  noise  like  the  wind  and  began 
to  work  hard  at  the  ropes. 

"  Shall  I  help  you  ?  "  asked  Hilda. 

"  No,  no,"  panted  Pierre  ;  "  you  stay  in 
the  cabin." 

The  storm  swept  rapidly  on  them,  but 
when  it  broke  they  were  ready  for  it.  It 
was  a  brave  little  ship,  and  Pierre  was  its 
master.  He  now  stood  erect  and  confident 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  119 

in  the  bow,  with  folded  arms,  while  the 
waves  tossed  around  him,  the  wind  roared 
and  whistled  overhead,  and  the  rain  dashed 
in  his  face.  Oh,  how  he  loved  a  wild  tem- 
pest !  He  could  have  shouted  in  his  joy. 

Hilda  knew  by  the  way  Pierre  stood 
that  a  terrible  storm  was  raging.  But  she 
thought  only  of  her  mother  and  sat  closer 
to  her,  singing  softly  so  if  she  woke  she 
would  hear  and  see  her  first  and  not  be 
frightened. 

Meanwhile  a  spring  wagon,  bearing  a  long 
pine  box,  had  been  driven  to  the  hut  and 
back  to  the  village  again. 

When  the  storm  in  the  parlour  was  at  its 
height  the  door  opened,  and  Mrs.  Pilliod 
looked  in. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  "  she  called. 
In  a  moment  she  had  boarded  the  gallant 
ship.  With  one  hand  she  swept  Pierre  into 
the  sea  and  with  the  other  pulled  Hilda  from 
the  cabin. 

"  Now  get  out  of  here,  both  of  you.  Go 
outdoors  and  leave  things  alone.  I  never 
saw  such  children,  never !  " 

Outside  Pierre  threw  himself  on  the 
ground  and  bit  the  earth  in  his  rage. 


120  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

"Don't   cry,"  sobbed  Hilda;  "don't  cry." 

"  I  ain't  crying,"  said  the  boy,  fiercely.  "  I 
hate  her." 

That  night  Pierre  and  Hilda  slept  to- 
gether. They  sat  very  quietly  in  the  sitting 
room  with  their  elders  all  the  evening. 
Jean  Pilliod  held  the  girl  in  his  arms  and 
wondered  why  she  did  not  ask  for  her 
mother.  When  the  children  had  been  sent 
to  bed,  Alphonse  looked  at  his  wife. 

"  I  thought  she  would  give  us  more 
trouble." 

"  If  you'd  had  to  look  after  her  all  day, 
you'd  think  she  was  trouble  enough." 

"She  don't  seem  to  miss  her  mother.  I 
thought  she  would." 

"  She  has  no  heart,"  replied  the  woman. 
"  Children  care  for  nothing  but  themselves." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  Jean  Pilliod,  "  she  had 
Pierre  to  play  with." 

"  Pierre  plays  too  much.  Why  don't  you 
find  him  something  to  do,  Alphonse  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  that.  He  is 
getting  big  enough  to  work." 

"  He  is  still  at  school,"  said  old  Jean, 
shifting  uneasily  in  his  chair.  "  He'll  have 
to  work  soon  enough." 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  121 

"  There  you  go,"  said  the  woman.  "  He'll 
be  good  for  nothing." 

Jane  Pilliod  did  not  believe  in  waiting  on 
children,  so  Pierre  and  Hilda  were  sent  to 
bed  alone.  This,  however,  was  no  grievance 
to  them.  All  the  afternoon  they  had  been 
waiting  for  night  to  come.  Any  one  who 
understood  children  could  have  seen  that 
during  the  evening,  as  they  sat  quietly  to- 
gether exchanging  only  a  whispered  word  or 
two,  they  were  eager  and  impatient. 

"How  do  we  get  out?"  asked  Hilda,  as 
soon  as  they  were  in  their  room. 

"  You'll  see,"  said  Pierre. 

He  led  the  way  to  the  window. 

"  I  climb  down  this  vine  to  the  roof  of  the 
shed  and  jump  off." 

As  they  looked  out,  a  thrill  of  pleasure 
seemed  to  run  all  down  the  vine. 

11  Hello,  Pierre,"  cried  the  young  leaves. 
"  Do  you  see  how  nice  we've  grown  ? " 
"  Look  at  me,"  "  And  me."  Those  at  the  top 
caught  sight  of  Hilda  peering  anxiously 
downward.  They  passed  the  news  to  the 
ones  below  them,  and  there  was  instantly  a 
great  prying  and  peering  and  many  exclama- 
tions of  wonder. 


122  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  Oh,  Pierre,"  said  Hilda,  "  do  you  think  I 
can  do  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course.     I'll  help  you  down." 

They  were  obliged  first  to  go  to  bed  for 
fear  any  one  should  come  in.  Pierre  un- 
buttoned Hilda's  waist  for  her  and  brought 
one  of  his  night-dresses. 

"I'd  better  sit  up,"  said  Hilda,  as  she 
climbed  in  the  bed,  "or  I'll  go  to  sleep, 
maybe." 

"  I  won't,"  said  Pierre.  "  I  can  stay  awake 
as  long  as  I  want  to." 

"  I  can't.  Sometimes,  when  I  am  in  bed, 
the  fairies  come  and  I  want  to  stay  awake 
and  play  with  them.  Just  when  we  are 
having  the  loveliest  time  I  guess  I  must  go 
to  sleep,  for  all  at  once  it's  morning  always 
and  we  weren't  half  begun." 

"  Lie  down,"  said  Pierre.  "  Some  one  is 
coming." 

"Ain't  you  asleep  yet?"  called  Mrs.  Pilliod. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  piped  Hilda,  as  she  scram- 
bled under  the  clothes. 

"  Well,  you  go  to  sleep  now  and  stop  talk- 
ing." 

After  a  long  time  of  great  silence  Hilda 
whispered,  — 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  123 

"  Pierre ! " 

"What?" 

"  I  ain't  asleep  yet." 

The  boy  sat  up  and  listened.  He  could 
hear  outside  the  great  pulse  of  the  night,  the 
rhythmic  beating  of  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands of  little  voices.  Inside  the  house 
there  was  no  sound. 

He  climbed  out  of  bed  and  Hilda  followed. 
In  a  moment  they  were  dressed  and  by  the 
window  again.  Pierre  climbed  quickly  out, 
but  as  soon  as  he  had  descended  a  few  feet, 
he  stopped  and  told  Hilda  what  to  do.  She 
climbed  on  the  sill  and  took  hold  of  the  vine. 
She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  shut  her  eyes 
and  slipped  off  her  seat.  Pierre  caught  her 
feet  and  placed  them  on  a  branch.  Find- 
ing herself  safe,  Hilda  opened  her  eyes  and 
laughed. 

"Keep  still,"  whispered  Pierre;  "they'll 
hear  us." 

After  a  step  or  two  Hilda  could  find  places 
for  her  feet  without  Pierre's  aid,  and  they 
were  soon  upon  the  ground. 

This  was  Hilda's  first  night  in  the  fields. 
As  she  raced  with  Pierre  toward  the  hut,  all 
fear  of  the  shadows  left  her,  and  something 


124  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

of  the  sense  of  liberty  and  love  of  adventure 
that  he  felt  came  also  to  her.  Never  again 
could  she  see  the  moonlight  on  the  earth, 
the  ghostly  forms  of  trees  and  bushes,  or 
hear  the  night  sounds  without  an  emotion 
of  wild  delight  and  nameless  expectation. 

Pierre  was  some  distance  ahead  when  they 
neared  the  hut  and  Hilda  called  to  him  to 
wait  for  her.  As  they  entered  its  shadow, 
they  stopped  a  moment  and  listened.  Hilda 
suddenly  remembered  the  strange  expression 
she  had  last  seen  on  her  mother's  face,  and 
the  fear  she  had  felt  before  passed  over  her. 

"  She  is  gone,"  she  whispered,  taking  hold 
of  Pierre.  "  I  know  she  is  gone." 

"  Come,"  he  said  slowly,  "  let's  look."  The 
door  was  open  and  they  peered  cautiously 
in.  The  light  shone  through  the  window 
across  the  bed.  There  was  no  one  there. 
Even  the  coverings  and  tick  were  gone, 
leaving  only  the  bare  frame. 

"  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  "  gasped  Hilda.  "  I 
wish  she  had  waited  for  me." 

"  Don't  cry,"  said  Pierre.  "  We'll  find  her 
again.  Come  on  !  " 

He  took  the  girl's  hand  and  led  her  away. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?  "  she  asked,  realiz- 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  125 

ing  by  his  manner  that  he  had  some  purpose 
in  view. 

"  Down  the  river,"  he  replied. 

Hilda  was  not  afraid  this  time  when  they 
reached  the  boat.  She  sat  on  the  bottom  in 
one  end,  and  Pierre,  standing  in  the  other, 
pushed  away  from  the  shore.  He  worked 
steadily  with  his  pole  until  they  had  passed 
around  the  end  of  the  island.  As  they 
skirted  the  small  knolls  they  had  previously 
visited,  he  scarcely  noticed  them.  He  was 
away  at  last  to  the  truly  far-off  lands.  Every 
push  took  him  farther  away  from  all  that  held 
and  worried  him.  Presently  the  main  chan- 
nel was  reached,  and  he  could  no  longer 
touch  bottom.  He  drew  in  his  pole  and 
held  it  beside  him  as  a  mast  against  which 
he  leaned.  The  motion  of  the  boat,  slow  at 
first,  became  after  an  hour  almost  impercep- 
tible, for  the  wind  blowing  up  the  river  was 
rapidly  growing  stronger,  and  the  tide  from 
the  lake  began  to  turn  the  flow.  Pierre  was 
not  concerned  by  this.  The  island  slipped 
slowly  behind  him,  and  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  glowing  sky  above  the  city.  For 
over  two  hours  he  stood  at  his  post,  some- 
times proudly  scanning  the  fleet  that  fol- 


126  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

lowed  him,  and  again  wandering  through 
the  glittering  streets  of  the  city  he  had 
already  reached.  He  grew  very  tired  with- 
out knowing  it,  and  it  was  not  upon  the 
bottom  of  his  flat-boat  that  he  finally 
stretched  himself,  but  upon  a  floating  bed 
of  clouds  that  bore  him  through  the  cham- 
bers of  palaces,  and  along  the  shining  streets, 
thronged  with  birds  he  could  talk  with,  and 
fairies  who  called  him  by  name.  He  under- 
stood everything  now,  and  every  one  about 
him  had  always  known  what  he  wanted. 

In  the  midst  of  it  all  he  heard  some  one 
he  could  not  see  calling  him.  He  knew  that 
if  he  listened  he  would  have  to  go  back,  and 
he  tried  hard  to  cover  his  ears.  The  effort 
awoke  him,  and  he  found  himself  in  his  boat 
at  the  edge  of  the  island.  His  grandfather 
was  standing  on  the  bank  with  Hilda  in  his 
arms. 

"  Come,  Pierre,"  he  said ;  "  you  have  given 
us  a  fright." 

"  Are  we  there  ?  "  asked  Hilda. 

She  tried  to  lift  her  head,  but  old  Jean 
pressed  it  back  on  his  shoulder,  and  she 
was  asleep  again.  Pierre  gazed  about  him 
in  bewilderment. 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  127 

"  Hurry,"  said  his  grandfather.  "  Your 
father  and  mother  are  hunting  for  you, 
too." 

uOh  dear,"  said  the  boy,  "I  thought  I 
was  gone." 

He  kicked  the  boat  in  his  vexation,  and 
followed  his  grandfather  to  the  house.  He 
took  his  whipping  without  a  sound,  but  Hilda 
wept  bitterly  for  him. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHEN  Hilda  was  taken  to  the  asylum, 
Pierre  felt  the  separation  even  more  than 
she.  She  had  been  so  true  a  companion 
that  he  did  not  know  how  much  her  sym- 
pathy was  to  him,  nor  how  much  of  their 
happiness  was  due  to  her,  until  she  was 
gone.  When  he  came  from  school  and 
looked  down  upon  the  island  from  the  hill, 
he  could  see  the  little  stone  under  the  wil- 
lows where^  Hilda  had  always  waited  for  him, 
but  she  was  no  longer  there.  He  did  not 
know  at  first  what  the  trouble  was.  Every 
day,  for  a  time,  when  he  reached  the  crest  of 
the  hill,  he  looked  below  with  the  old  expec- 
tation of  pleasure,  if  his  spirits  were  good ;  or 
indifference,  if  in  a  quiet  mood.  Each  time 
the  sight  of  the  deserted  stone  brought  him 
a  fresh  surprise,  a  sudden  shock  of  the  heart, 
followed  by  a  dreary  sense  of  loneliness. 
About  a  mile  down  the  river  he  could  see 
the  cluster  of  buildings  that  formed  the 
asylum. 

128 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  129 

Hilda  parted  from  the  island  and  Pierre 
very  quietly.  She  was  a  little  shy  at  first 
with  the  three  hundred  children  she  found 
herself  among.  Her  uniform  of  striped  blue 
and  white  gingham  pleased  her  for  a  time. 
And  then  she  was  constantly  learning  to  do 
strange  things,  and  the  effort  to  understand 
what  was  expected  of  her  kept  her  wits  alert. 
As,  however,  the  life  about  her  became  more 
familiar,  she  began  to  feel  the  dulness  of  its 
routine.  She  was  no  longer  an  individual 
free  to  follow  her  own  desires.  She  did  not 
even  have  the  responsibilities  that  had  made 
her  days  so  busy  and  important  at  home. 
She  was  just  one  of  a  great  number  of  wards, 
utterly  lost  among  them.  Those  in  charge 
of  the  institution  —  the  matrons,  the  nurses, 
and  the  teachers  —  were  very  far  away  from 
her.  They  looked  at  her,  not  as  if  seeing  a 
little  girl  who  wanted  to  know  them  and  love 
them,  but  as  a  nameless  creature,  among 
many  others.  She  began  to  long  for  Pierre, 
and  her  happiest  moments  were  those  in 
which,  left  alone  for  a  time,  she  could  play 
at  being  again  on  the  island  with  him.  Every 
morning,  all  the  three  hundred  children  were 
put  through  a  process  of  cleaning  up  —  their 


130  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

hands  and  faces  were  washed,  their  hair  curled 
and  tied  with  ribbon.  They  were  dressed  in 
fresh  uniforms.  This,  of  course,  was  a  great 
task  for  the  attendants,  —  a  part  of  their  day's 
duty,  a  matter  of  rule,  —  and  the  children 
were  hurried  through  in  groups  without  any 
individual  care.  All  this  was  done  simply 
to  make  them  more  attractive  in  the  eyes  of 
those  seeking  children  to  adopt. 

Hilda  was  taught,  with  the  others,  to  call 
every  man  or  woman  who  entered  "  papa  "  or 
"  mamma,"  and  she  caught  the  feeling  very 
soon  that  nothing  here  was  for  her  affection. 
She  was  told  over  and  over  that  some  day 
one  of  the  visitors  who  came  would  take  her 
away ;  that  if  she  were  a  good  girl  she  could 
go  with  a  kind  mamma,  but  if  not,  a  bad  one 
would  get  her.  This  idea  began  to  take  a 
very  strong  hold  upon  her  fancy,  and  she 
looked  with  apprehension  into  the  face  of 
every  stranger. 

One  day,  as  she  was  standing  apart  from 
the  children,  gazing  in  this  manner  at  a  very 
tall,  prim  woman,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  examining  them,  she  felt  the  eyes  of  the 
visitor  fixed  upon  her,  and  there  was  an  in- 
stant sinking  at  her  heart. 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  131 

"  Come  here,"  said  the  matron,  motioning 
to  her. 

She  knew  that  she  ought  to  run  gladly  to 
the  stranger  and  call  her  "mamma,"  but  some- 
how the  words  froze  upon  her  lips.  She 
moved  shyly  nearer,  glanced  with  a  timid 
smile  into  the  critical  face  above  her  and 
then  upon  the  floor. 

"  She  seems  like  a  quiet  little  thing,"  said 
the  woman.  "  I  certainly  don't  like  children 
who  are  noisy.  Have  you  ever  had  the 
measles  ?  "  she  said. 

Hilda  thought  from  her  voice  that  this 
was  something  she  should  have  had,  so  she 
answered,  "  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  I  would  rather  have  a  child,"  said  the 
woman,  "  who  has  had  all  these  things ;  but 
she  looks  well  enough,  and  I  guess  she'll 
do." 

"  Well,"  said  the  matron,  "  I  will,  of  course, 
have  to  see  her  guardian,  Mr.  Pilliod,  and 
get  his  consent ;  but  there  will  be  no  trouble 
about  that.  You  can  be  very  thankful,"  she 
said,  turning  to  Hilda,  "  that  you  have  got 
such  a  good  home  so  soon.  In  a  few  days 
your  new  mamma  will  come  and  take  you 
way  out  to  Dakota." 


132  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Hilda.  She  looked  up 
and  smiled  bravely,  but  in  reality  this  inter- 
view had  filled  her  with  a  feeling  of  utter 
desolation,  why,  she  could  not  have  told. 
She  had,  before  this,  discovered  a  window  at 
one  end  of  an  upper  hall  from  which  she 
could  see  her  island.  Here  she  went  as  soon 
as  she  was  free,  and,  leaning  against  the  sill, 
pressed  her  cheek  close  to  the  pane.  Never 
before  had  her  face  expressed  a  settled  sad- 
ness. For  the  first  time  in  her  life  had  come 
apprehension  and  conscious  memory.  She 
thought  of  Pierre,  of  her  mother,  and  longed 
for  them.  She  wished  that  they  would  come 
for  her  now.  Her  heart  rebelled  at  the 
thought  of  this  strange  woman  becoming  her 
mother,  whom  she  had  always  hoped  to  find 
again.  The  word  "  Dakota  "  filled  her  with 
terror.  It  was  not  one  of  the  places  that 
Pierre  wished  to  find.  It  sounded  like  a 
place  far  outside  all  that  she  had  known  or 
hoped  for.  She  did  not  cry,  and  made  no 
complaint.  She  would,  in  fact,  have  met 
even  such  a  fate  as  her  mother's  with  a  like 
patience.  She  would  bloom  in  the  sunlight 
and  droop  in  the  shadow;  but  she  would  more 
often  smile  than  weep,  whatever  her  fate. 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  133 

The  letter  from  Sister  Pelagia  not  only 
reminded  Mr.  Alexander  of  the  child,  but  it 
made  his  half-fancied  projects  concerning  her 
seem  more  possible.  When  he  finished  read- 
ing it,  he  reproached  himself  for  his  failure  to 
visit  the  island  again  and  keep  his  promise 
to  her  and  to  himself. 

"  She  has  forgotten  me  by  this  time,"  he 
said.  "  Children  do  not  remember." 

This,  however,  did  not  satisfy  him.  He 
had  meant  to  keep  closer  track  of  her,  and 
to  do  something  for  her  and  her  mother. 
That  evening  he  said  to  Mr.  Mott,  — 

"You  remember  the  little  girl  I  thought 
something  of  adopting  ?  " 

"  The  child  you  met  on  the  day  you  saw 
the  Pogonia  ?  I  must  go  up  there  some  day 
and  see  about  that." 

"  We  will  go  together.  I  think  I  will  take 
the  child  if  I  can  arrange  it." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  added : 
"  Would  you  be  willing  to  give  her  a  home 
here  ?  I  would  send  her  to  a  convent  to  be 
educated,  but  I  would  want  this  to  be  her 
home." 

"  I  should  think  Primrose  would  be  glad  of 
that,"  said  Mr.  Mott  "We  will  speak  to  her." 


134  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

They  found  her  in  the  new  enclosure 
training  the  young  vines  which  had  already 
begun  to  throw  out  hundreds  of  tendrils 
about  the  summer-house  built  for  her. 
Nearly  two  months  had  passed  since  this 
little  Eden  had  been  designed.  The  sod 
was  well  set,  a  number  of  bushes  and  trees 
were  planted,  a  simple  fountain  was  playing 
in  its  basin,  the  overflow  from  which  fed  a 
tiny  stream  that  crossed  the  lawn. 

"  Primrose,"  said  her  father,  "  Mr.  Alexan- 
der wants  us  to  make  a  home  for  a  little  girl 
of  his." 

"  Have  you  a  child  ? "  she  asked,  looking 
eagerly  into  his  eyes. 

"  Not  one  of  my  own,"  he  replied,  smiling; 
"  but  I  may  adopt  one.  If  I  do,  will  you  be 
her  sister  ? " 

"  Oh,"  said  Primrose,  "  will  you  really  bring 
her  to  me  ?  If  you  do,  you  will  make  me 
very  happy.  I  have  never  had  any  but  make- 
believes  ;  and  if  you  bring  me  a  real  little  girl 
for  a  sister,  you  will  see  how  I  will  love 
her." 

Now  at  this  very  moment  Hilda  was  turn- 
ing sadly  from  the  window  in  the  asylum, 
for  the  twilight  had  hidden  her  island  from 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  135 

her.  These  three  friends  of  hers  did  not 
know  what  need  there  was  for  haste. 

Mr.  Alexander  was  in  good  spirits  as  he 
left  the  garden. 

"  We  will  go  up  there  in  a  few  days,"  he 
called  back  to  Mr.  Mott,  "  and  look  after  our 
Pogonias." 

The  next  afternoon,  as  he  was  leaving  his 
office,  he  heard  the  hoarse  call  of  the  up-river 
steamer  as  it  neared  its  dock  a  few  blocks 
away.  It  was  a  hot  afternoon,  and  the 
thought  of  the  cool  deck  came  to  him  with 
a  pleasant  suggestion.  He  would  take  the 
ride  up  to  Perrysburg  and  back.  He  walked 
to  the  river  and  watched  the  landing  of  the 
boat.  It  was  filled  with  children.  He  saw 
them  peering  excitedly  over  the  rail  of  the 
upper  deck,  and  heard  their  piping  voices. 
It  was  a  pleasant  sight  and  sound  to  him. 
He  stepped  aboard,  and,  going  above,  placed 
his  chair  near  the  bow  where  he  could  feel 
and  hear  the  children  near  him,  and  watch 
the  distant  windings  of  the  river.  When  the 
boat  was  in  motion,  the  wind  stirred  about 
him  and  he  bared  his  head  to  its  touch.  He 
passed  a  group  of  great  red  grain  elevators 
marked  No.  i,  No.  2,  No.  3,  No.  4,  in  enor- 


136  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

mous  white  letters.  They  were  his  own. 
Moored  to  the  dock  by  them  were  two  of 
the  finest  steam  barges  on  the  lakes,  each 
bearing  his  name  with  different  numbers  to 
distinguish  them.  He  saw  men  toiling  about 
the  elevators  and  boats,  and  thought  as  he  had 
often  before,  "  Those  fellows  there  ought  not 
to  work  all  the  time." 

Whenever  he  looked  at  the  world  of  labour 
and  saw  its  poverty  and  narrow  bounds,  he 
felt  that  something  was  wrong;  but  seeing 
no  way  to  remedy  it,  he  looked  away. 

The  bridges,  that  bound  the  east  and 
west  sides  of  the  city,  were  opened  to  let 
them  through.  Lumber  yards  and  coal  pits 
were  passed.  Then  came  a  mile  of  houses 
close  together,  then  a  few  stragglers,  and  the 
city  was  behind.  Now  the  clear  blue  waters 
ran  between  green  meadows,  market  gardens, 
little  hills  covered  with  vineyards  and  fruit 
orchards,  and  now  and  then  appeared  a 
remnant  of  the  fine  forest  that  once  covered 
the  banks.  He  could  see  in  the  distance, 
on  the  right,  the  buildings  of  the  asylum, 
and  on  the  left,  farther  up,  the  spire  of  the 
Church  of  Our  Lady.  In  half  an  hour  he 
would  turn  a  bend  in  the  river  and  get  a 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  137 

view  of  the  island  and  the  village  of  Maumee 
behind  it.  He  was  not  consciously  thinking 
at  all,  but  just  idly  watching  the  passing 
beauty,  or  turning  a  moment  now  and  then 
to  look  at  a  group  of  children  who  came 
near  him  in  their  play.  Suddenly  he  felt  a 
little  hand  upon  his  knee,  and  looking  down, 
he  saw  his  small  friend  of  the  island.  She 
was  smiling,  as  if  in  expectation  of  happiness ; 
but  there  was  something  wistful  and  shy  in 
the  expression  of  her  eyes  that  spoke  of  un- 
certainty. She  was  much  older  than  she 
was  two  months  before. 

"  Hello,  little  one,"  he  said,  taking  her  on 
his  knee  at  once,  "  what  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"  I'm  having  a  excursion." 

"  Is  your  mamma  here  ?  "  he  asked,  looking 
around  to  see. 

"  Oh,  no.  My  mamma's  gone.  I  looked 
everywhere  for  her  to-day,  but  she  wasn't 
there.  We  didn't  go  far  enough,  I  guess." 

She  suddenly  became  restless,  and  slipping 
from  his  knee  said  excitedly,  — 

"  I  must  find  my  own  mamma  or  they  will 
send  me  away  with  another  one  I  don't  like 
at  all." 


138  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

He  took  her  hand  and  said  gently,  — 

"  Are  you  in  the  asylum  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  a  terrible  tall  woman  is  going 
to  take  me  'way  off  to  Dakota,  and  I  don't 
want  to  go  either ;  and  I've  been  just  as  good 
as  I  can  be,  too." 

"  Well,  now,  you  see  here,"  said  Mr.  Alex- 
ander, jumping  up,  "they'll  do  nothing  of 
the  kind.  You're  my  little  girl  if  your 
mother's  gone,  and  you'll  come  with  me  and 
no  one  else." 

"  Oh,  am  I  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Oh,  goody, 
goody,  but  I'm  glad  !  " 

They  found  the  matron  sunning  herself 
on  the  lee  side  of  the  boat,  and  the  matter 
was  quickly  arranged  to  his  satisfaction,  for 
he  was  one  of  the  trustees  of  the  asylum. 

"  Hilda  is  a  very  beautiful  and  affectionate 
child,"  said  the  matron,  "  and  I  am  glad  you 
will  take  her." 

"  No  one,  not  even  Jean  Pilliod,  must  know 
where  she  has  gone,"  said  he.  "  Even  you 
must  forget." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  the  matron,  "  I  will 
begin  now,  and  so  the  record  of  her  adop- 
tion by  the  Dakota  woman  will  remain 
unchanged.  It  will  do  no  harm." 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  139 

She  knew  that  Mr.  Pilliod,  having  satisfied 
himself  that  Hilda  would  have  a  comfortable 
home,  did  not  expect  to  see  her  again ;  and 
she  knew  also  that  he  would  gladly  consent 
to  the  change,  were  he  asked. 

"  What  shall  I  say  to  the  woman  when 
she  comes  ? " 

"  Tell  her  that  an  old  friend  of  the  family 
appeared  and  took  her  away.  I  will  make 
things  sure  by  keeping  Hilda  with  me  now." 

Hilda  stood  close  to  him,  holding  his  hand 
and  occasionally  pressing  her  cheek  against 
it. 

"  How  about  her  clothes  and  playthings  ?  " 
asked  the  matron. 

"  I  will  get  everything  new  for  her.  Hilda," 
he  asked,  "  is  there  anything  of  yours  at  the 
asylum  you  would  like  ?  " 

"  Only  Alice." 

"  Who  is  Alice  ? " 

"  She's  my  daughter.  She  isn't  very  well, 
you  know." 

"  Is  it  a  doll  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Alexander.  The 
matron  nodded,  but  Hilda  said  earnestly,  — 

"  No,  no,  she's  my  daughter.  Really  and 
truly  she  is.  You  won't  leave  her  there,  will 
you?" 


140  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"Of  course  we  won't.  I'll  send  my  car- 
riage for  Alice  in  the  morning.  If  she  is 
sick,  you  know  it  would  never  do  to  send 
her  by  mail." 

"  Her  arm  came  off  with  the  measles,  and 
her  face  got  cracked  with  whooping-cough. 
And  every  time  she  has  a  wedding  the  cake 
and  candy  makes  her  worse." 

"  Well,  well,  she  must  have  a  hard  time  of 
it." 

"  I  love  Alice  very  much,  don't  you  ? " 
She  looked  up  at  him  smiling  sweetly. 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  fond  of  Alice  and  of  her 
mamma,  too." 

"  Is  that  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  guess  it  is,"  he  replied. 

It  had  been  a  great  many  years  since  he 
had  spoken  of  love  to  any  one,  and  it  seemed 
strange  to  him. 

"  I  love  you,  too,"  said  the  child.  When 
the  boat  stopped  at  the  landing,  Mr.  Alex- 
ander and  Hilda  stood  by  the  rail  and 
watched  the  children  troop  ashore. 

"  I  don't  have  to  go  back,  do  I  ? "  said  she, 
holding  fast  to  his  hand. 

"  No,  indeed.  You  are  going  with  me  to 
a  pretty  little  home  in  a  garden  where  your 


A  PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  141 

Uncle  Christopher  and  your  big  sister  Prim- 
rose are  expecting  you." 

"  Do  they  love  me,  too  ? " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  they  do  —  very  much." 

She  sighed  with  satisfaction  and  went 
quietly  with  him  to  his  seat  in  the  bow.  She 
climbed  on  a  chair  and,  kneeling  down, 
rested  her  arms  on  the  rail. 

"  Look,  look,"  she  cried  eagerly,  as  the 
island  swept  full  into  view;  "it  is  there." 
She  pointed  toward  it  and  then  grew  quiet 
again.  Until  Perrysburg  was  reached,  and 
while  the  boat  was  at  the  wharf,  she  remained 
motionless  by  the  rail.  When  they  turned 
around  to  return,  she  crossed  to  the  other 
side  and  climbed  again  to  where  she  could 
see.  The  boat,  as  it  circled  about,  approached 
closer  to  the  island,  and  Hilda  thought  she 
saw  Pierre  standing  in  the  midst  of  their  city, 
looking  toward  them.  The  boat  turned  a 
little  more  and  the  island  passed  out  of  her 
view. 

Mr.  Alexander  had  been  watching  her 
thoughtfully.  He  had  been  surprised  by  the 
intentness  of  her  gaze  and  by  her  silence. 
As  he  followed  the  play  of  emotions  over 
her  young  face,  he  was  troubled.  Had  he 


142  A  PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

appeared  too  late?  Was  it  possible  that 
sorrow  had  already  sown  its  seeds  here  ?  He 
wished  he  could  read  her  thoughts ;  but  he 
felt  that  she  herself  did  not  know  what  they 
were,  and  he  hesitated  to  question  her.  Sen- 
sitive as  he  was  to  the  curious  gaze  of  others, 
he  could  not  attempt  to  pry  into  even  this 
child's  heart  without  a  sense  of  shame.  He 
began  to  feel  that  he  should  not  watch  her 
so  closely,  and  looked  away. 

A  child  like  Hilda  could  not  long  escape 
the  influence  of  such  a  presence.  She  looked 
into  his  face  and  turning  about  in  her  chair, 
nestled  close  beside  him.  He  put  his  arm 
about  her  and  was  reassured. 

"  She  will  forget  all  that,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  She  is  surely  too  young  to  remember." 

Most  children  have  made  many  imaginary 
visits  to  fairyland,  but  Hilda  is  the  only  one 
I  know  who  ever  really  went  there.  The 
moment  she  passed  through  the  gate,  between 
the  lilac  bushes,  and  saw  the  garden  about 
her  and  the  quaint  little  cottage  in  the  centre, 
she  knew  that  she  was  there.  Primrose  saw 
them  from  the  kitchen  door,  and  came  out  to 
meet  them.  The  moment  Hilda  looked  into 
her  homely  face,  she  began  to  worship  her, 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  143 

for  she  saw  at  once  how  beautiful  she  was. 
Could  children  paint,  the  world  would  bow 
in  adoration  before  the  portraits  of  those 
who  love  them ;  for  it  would  see,  for  the  first 
time,  the  countenance  of  the  Divine. 

"  This  is  Hilda,"  said  Mr.  Alexander. 

Now,  Primrose  did  not  even  kiss  her. 
She  only  said :  "  I  was  just  about  to  pick 
some  flowers  for  the  table.  Come  on, 
Hilda." 

"  Oh,  my,"  cried  the  child,  as  she  went  with 
Primrose  through  the  garden,  "just  look  at 
those  pansies!  Oh,  mercy  on  us,  I  never 
saw  so  many !  I  know  what  those  are,  too, 
—  they  are  tulips.  Oh,  look,  Primrose, 
what  are  them  ?  " 

"  What  are  those  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  mean  those.  What  are  they;  tell 
me  quick." 

"  They  are  hyacinths." 

"It  don't  hurt  the  flowers  to  pick  them, 
does  it?" 

"  No,  but  we  won't  pick  the  hyacinths  nor 
the  tulips  nor  the  daffodils,  those  yellow 
flowers  over  there,  for  they  came  from  little 
bulbs  that  have  waited  patiently  in  the  ground 
all  winter  and  only  bloom  once.  So  we  will 


144  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

let  them  keep  their  blossom  as  long  as  they 
can.  But  we  will  pick  the  pansies  and 
violets,  for  it  will  be  good  for  them,  and  the 
new  buds  will  do  better." 

Primrose  showed  her  how  to  find  the  ones 
with  the  long  stems. 

"  You  may  pick  the  bouquets  for  us  every 
day,"  she  said,  "  and  that  will  be  a  great  help." 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  do  lots  of  things  if  you'll 
just  let  me." 

"  Can  you  ?  I  am  glad  of  that,  for  I  need 
some  one  very  much." 

"Why,  I  can  do  most  anything.  I  can 
cook  and  sweep  and  set  the  table  and  wash 
dishes  and  make  all  Alice's  clothes, —  I  wish 
Alice  was  here  now;  she  would  be  very, 
very  happy,  and  you  would  love  her,  too. 
Maybe  she'd  get  well,  only  her  arm's  off  and 
her  face  is  all  cracked  up  terrible  —  she  can't 
ever  be  real  well,  I  guess,  can  she  ? " 

"  Where  is  Alice  ?  " 

"  At.  the  asylum.  He  is  going  to  take 
her  in  his  carriage  because  she's  too  sick  to 
send  by  —  by  mail.  What  is  mail  ?  " 

"  I'll  show  you  some  day.  It's  the  way 
letters  are  sent.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it,  so 
you'll  know.  But  who  is  *  he  '?  " 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  145 

"Why,  him." 

"  Mr.  Alexander  ?  " 

"  He  brought  me  here  and  is  always  going 
to  be  good  to  me.  He  said  so." 

"  Would  you  like  to  call  him  papa  ? " 

"  No,"  she  shuddered  a  little. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Primrose,  hastily, 
"call  him  Uncle  Minot.  He'd  like  that 
best,  I  guess." 

"  Then  I've  got  two  uncles  already, 
Uncle  Minot  and  Uncle  Christopher,  and 
you  are  my  dear,  dear  sister  Primrose." 

"  Oh,  you  have  a  great  many  more  folks 
than  that.  There  is  a  family  right  under 
that  bush,  and  every  one  of  them  are  your 


own  cousins." 


"Really?"  asked  Hilda,  looking  first  at 
the  bush  and  then  quizzically  into  Primrose's 
face. 

"  I  know,"  she  whispered.  Then  looking 
at  the  bush  again  she  cried  merrily :  "  I  can 
see  them  all  at  the  window.  Can  I  take 
them  a  pansy  ?  This  one,  see,  it's  just  a 
little  one  and  won't  matter." 

She  jumped  up  and,  running  to  the  bush, 
tossed  the  flower  in.  "My  name's  Hilda," 
she  said.  "  What's  yours  ? " 


146  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

"  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow  all  about  them," 
said  Primrose.  "  We  must  go  and  get  sup- 
per now.  I'll  take  you  to  the  summer- 
house  and  show  you  all  your  little  nieces  and 
nephews  —  my  own  children,  you  know.  I 
have  a  new  home  for  them  now,  and  I'll  show 
you  that,  too.  But  the  vines  have  not  cov- 
ered it  yet,  and  the  old  place  is  better  for 
them.  I  will  teach  you  how  to  help  the 
vines  grow." 

"  I  wish  it  was  to-morrow,"  said  the  child. 

When  Mr.  Alexander  and  Mr.  Mott  came 
in,  they  saw  Primrose  and  Hilda  putting  the 
supper  on  the  table. 

"  Isn't  she  wonderful  ? "  asked  Mr.  Alex- 
ander, proudly. 

Mr.  Mott  put  on  his  spectacles  and  called 
her  to  him. 

She  had  been  eagerly  helping  Primrose 
and  had  not  noticed  their  entrance.  She 
suddenly  became  quiet  at  this  summons  and 
moved  shyly  toward  him.  He  examined  her 
as  critically  as  he  would  one  of  his  young 
cuttings,  and  said :  — 

"  She  seems  to  be  well  made  and  healthy. 
How  do  you  find  her,  Primrose  ?  " 

"  Hilda,  bring  me  a  dish  for  the  potatoes," 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  147 

called  Primrose.  "  Now  you  watch  the  cof- 
fee," she  said,  "and  tell  me  when  it  boils." 

She  took  the  two  men  to  the  porch  and 
said,  — 

"  Don't  you  ever  talk  about  Hilda  to  her 
face  again." 

Her  eyes  snapped  as  she  said  this,  and  her 
voice  was  actually  severe.  Mr.  Mott  had 
never  seen  her  like  this  before,  and  he  looked 
at  her  aghast. 

"  Can  she  hear  ?  "  he  asked  in  confusion. 

"  Didn't  you  see  her  ears  ?  You  looked  at 
her  close  enough." 

"Why,  Primrose," faltered  the  old  man,  "I 
didn't  suppose  she  would  understand." 

Primrose  became  herself  again. 

"  Of  course  you  didn't,"  she  said;  "  I  ought 
not  to  have  spoken  so.  But  she  does  under- 
stand everything.  Just  treat  her  as  you  do 
me  and  you'll  see." 

The  two  old  fellows  entered,  rather  crest- 
fallen, and  sat  down  to  the  table  in  silence. 
Mr.  Mott  looked  at  Hilda  askance.  He 
seemed  rather  afraid  of  her.  He  wanted 
very  much  to  be  agreeable,  but  he  didn't 
know  how.  She  caught  his  look,  however, 
and  seemed  to  understand ;  for  she  said, 


148  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

as  she  tucked  her  napkin  under  her  chin, 
"  You're  my  Uncle  Christopher,  ain't  you  ?  " 

That  evening  everything  was  made  right 
between  them  forever,  for  he  told  her  a  story, 
as  they  sat  on  the  porch,  about  a  bee  that 
had  been  brought  up  on  basswood  honey,  and 
passed  through  many  adventures,  searching 
for  it  when  it  grew  up. 

Whenever  she  saw  a  bee  among  the 
flowers  after  this,  she  knew  what  he  was 
doing,  and  wondered  if  he  was  satisfied  with 
what  he  got,  or  if  he  was  still  looking  for  a 
basswood  tree. 


CHAPTER   VII 

EARLY  in  the  morning,  Primrose  took 
Hilda  into  the  garden  and  began  to  intro- 
duce her  to  its  wonders.  For  thirty  years 
she  had  walked  and  worked  here,  and  every 
day  had  revealed  to  her  some  new  friend,  and 
made  the  old  ones  dearer.  She  had  kept  all 
her  dolls,  and  a  number  of  them  were  discov- 
ered now  in  little  secret  places  along  the 
gravel  paths  and  in  the  old  summer-house. 
She  was  the  right  kind  of  a  guide  through 
fairyland. 

"  And  now,"  said  she,  "  we  will  go  to  the 
enclosure,  for  that  is  the  place  where  we  will 
be  most  of  the  time.  We  have  a  great  deal 
to  do  there,  for  it  is  all  new,  and  there  are 
vines  to  train,  and  things  to  plant,  and  walks 
to  make.  That  is  to  belong  to  us.  It  is  our 
very  own,  and  when  any  one  comes  there, 
they  are  just  our  visitors." 

As  they  walked  about  the  enclosure,  every- 
thing they  saw  was  divided  between  them. 

149  • 


150  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

Certain  of  the  bushes  and  flowers  and  trees 
would  belong  to  Primrose,  and  certain  others 
would  be  Hilda's  own.  While  effecting  this 
division,  which  was  making  Hilda  happy  to 
giddiness,  they  came  upon  two  climbing 
roses,  growing  close  together,  by  the  summer- 
house. 

Hilda  chose  one  of  these,  and  then  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  thoughtfully  at  both. 

"  Primrose,"  she  said  presently,  "  is  yours 
any  one  in  particular?  " 

"No,  Hilda;  why?" 

"  Well,  would  you  mind  very  much  if  I  had 
it,  too  ? " 

"  I  would  like  that  very  much.  They  shall 
both  be  yours." 

This  seemed  to  please  the  child  more  than 
anything  that  had  occurred,  and  she  returned 
frequently  during  the  day  to  her  rose  vines. 

Every  afternoon  Mr.  Alexander  hurried 
from  his  office  to  Mr.  Mott's.  All  day  he 
thought  of  Hilda,  recalling  something  she 
had  said  or  done  the  day  before,  trying  to 
picture  what  she  might  be  doing  now.  He 
no  longer  feared  that  her  previous  life  had 
formed  a  bias  toward  sorrow.  He  saw  that 
she  had  brought  no  troubles  with  her. 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  151 

There  was  no  sign  of  melancholy  nor  of 
longing.  She  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
everything  outside  the  garden  and  her  daily 
life,  and  she  found  nothing  there  but  affec- 
tion and  delight.  As  he  became  certain  of 
this,  and  as  his  own  love  for  Hilda  grew,  he 
was  troubled  by  a  new  anxiety.  Perhaps 
she  would  forget  the  days  that  were  passing 
now  as  readily  as  those  that  had  preceded 
them.  In  September,  she  would  be  sent  to 
the  convent.  He  would  see  very  little  of 
her  in  the  years  that  followed.  How,  then, 
could  he  expect  to  become  an  influence  in 
her  life  ?  He  would  be  nothing  to  her  at 
all.  She  would  forget  him  as  soon  as  she 
was  gone.  Such  thoughts  as  these  troubled 
him  when  he  was  at  his  office  or  his  club. 
The  moment  he  entered  the  garden  they 
were  put  to  flight  by  Hilda.  The  child 
seemed  to  realize  that  he  belonged  to  her 
more  than  did  the  others.  They  were  good 
to  her  and  she  was  happy ;  but  there  was  a 
different  demand  made  upon  her  in  her  rela- 
tions with  her  Uncle  Minot.  She  felt  that 
here  the  responsibility  was  reversed  —  that 
she  must  be  good  to  him.  She  soon  learned 
when  to  expect  him.  All  the  morning  she 


152  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

worked  in  the  house  and  garden  with  Prim- 
rose. Sometimes  in  the  afternoon  she  would 
sit  for  a  while  near  Mr.  Mott,  silently  watch- 
ing him  as  he  examined  his  bulbs,  or  made 
cuttings,  or  pruned  his  trees  and  shrubs,  or 
repotted  his  plants.  It  was  not  long  before 
he  began  to  look  for  her  coming  and  to  miss 
her  when  she  was  not  there.  She  was  so 
receptive  and  so  perfect  a  little  embodiment 
of  sympathy  that  he  began  unconsciously  to 
talk  out  loud  to  her  when  she  approached, 
just  as  he  had  for  years  communed  with 
himself.  She  was  a  magnet  to  his  thoughts, 
drawing  them  forth  in  speech.  She  listened, 
of  course,  as  unconsciously  as  he  talked. 
Perhaps  it  was  only  the  pleasant  sound  of 
his  voice,  or  the  natural  delight  of  children 
in  watching  whatever  is  doing,  or  it  may 
have  been  both  of  these,  combined  with  the 
beautiful  spirit  of  the  man,  that  drew  her  to 
him  and  made  her  contented  to  sit  silently 
near.  But  unconscious  of  it  as  they  both 
were,  this  constant  flow  of  words  and  feeling, 
passing  from  the  old  man  through  the  senses 
of  the  child,  left  its  influence  on  her  mind. 
Day  by  day  the  garden  became  more  signifi- 
cant in  her  eyes.  She  began  to  have  vague 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  153 

ideas  concerning  the  relation  of  the  plants  to 
the  soil,  the  sunlight,  and  the  air.  She  knew 
how  the  roots  of  many  things  appeared  and 
spread  out  under  the  ground,  how  they 
searched  for  food  and  water  and  carried  it 
up  into  the  stalks  and  branches.  She  looked 
at  the  blossoms  of  the  trees  and  knew  that 
they  told  of  the  fruit  to  come.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  tell  of  the  countless  perceptions  form- 
ing in  her  mind,  of  the  questions  that  arose, 
of  the  fancies  with  which  she  was  busy. 
Most  of  her  fancies  and  inquiries  were,  no 
doubt,  awakened  by  what  she  caught  of  the 
old  gardener's  discourses,  but  they  were  pur- 
sued either  alone,  with  Primrose,  or  with  Mr. 
Alexander.  One  day,  when  she  met  him  at 
the  gate  where  she  was  usually  waiting  for 
him,  she  said, — 

"  Uncle  Minot,  what  does  the  beautiful 
heralds  of  the  harvest  mean?" 

He  hardly  knew  what  to  say  to  this  ques- 
tion; but  while  he  hesitated,  looking  down  in 
some  wonder  at  the  little  head  so  far  below 
him,  she  added,  "  I  know  what  they  are,  but 
I  don't  know  what  they  mean." 

"  What  are  they,  little  one  ?  " 

"  They  are  the  peach  and  apple  blossoms." 


154  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

"  That's  right,"  he  said,  understanding  at 
once  what  she  wanted  to  know,  but  wonder- 
ing how  she  had  caught  the  phrase.  "  I'll 
tell  you  what  it  means.  The  harvest  means 
the  fruit  we  gather  from  the  trees  or  bushes, 
or  the  grain  we  get  from  the  fields.  A  her- 
ald is  some  person  or  thing  that  tells  about 
the  coming  of  something  else.  Now,  if  you 
run  ahead  of  me  and  tell  Primrose  I  am 
coming,  you  will  be  my  herald  just  as  the 
blossoms  tell  us  now  that  there  will  be 
peaches  and  apples  and  pears,  quinces  and 
currants  and  raspberries,  and  hundreds  of 
other  things  a  little  later.  In  that  way, 
they  are  the  heralds  of  the  harvest." 

He  marvelled  at  this  question  of  Hilda's, 
but  it  was  only  one  of  a  thousand  things  she 
said  that  were  wonderful  to  him.  I  have 
known  people  who  would  laugh  at  so  care- 
ful an  answer  to  such  a  question  from  a 
child.  They  would  think  the  words  thrown 
away.  But  there  are  few  children  who.  do 
not  make  good  use  of  what  information  is 
given  them.  The  profoundest  subjects  are 
very  simple  to  them. 

A  few  days  later,  Hilda  said  to  Primrose, — 
"  What  kind  of  fruit  will  grow  on  the  syringa 
bushes?" 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  155 

"  They  don't  bear  any  fruit,  Hilda.  Did 
you  think  they  did  ?  " 

"  But  just  look  at  these  beautiful  heralds 
of  the  harvest.  What  are  they  doing,  then  ?  " 

"  There  are  lots  of  bushes  that  blossom, 
but  don't  have  any  fruit." 

"  Oh,"  said  Hilda,  in  the  tone  of  one  who 
has  received  information  that  does  not  in- 
form. 

Primrose  noticed  this  and  said,  — 

"  We  will  ask  Uncle  Christopher  about  it." 

That  evening,  as  they  were  all  on  the  porch 
together,  Hilda  whispered  to  Primrose,  "  Ask 
him  now." 

"  What  shall  I  ask  him,  dear,  and  which 
one  shall  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Uncle  Christopher.  Ask  him  about  the 
bushes  that  blossom.  You  said  you  would." 

"Father,"  said  Primrose,  "Hilda  and  I 
want  to  know  why  some  trees  and  bushes 
blossom  and  don't  bear  any  fruit.  You  have 
often  spoken  of  the  blossoms  as  the  beautiful 
heralds  of  the  harvest,  but  there  is  no  har- 
vest from  the  syringa  bushes." 

"Well,  now,  that  is  very  true,"  said  Mr. 
Mott,  "  and  it  only  shows  how  limited  are 
most  of  our  pet  ideas.  Poetical  as  that 


156  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

phrase  is,  it  gives  a  poor  expression  to  the 
meaning  of  the  blossoms.  I  will  never  use 
it  again,  for  you  and  Hilda  have  helped  me 
see  a  little  farther.  Every  blossom  in  this 
garden  is  telling  us  the  same  thing.  They 
are  not  thinking  of  something  for  us  to  eat 
at  all,  they  are  really  saying :  *  There  is  life 
and  health  in  this  stem  where  I  am.  The 
plant  that  bears  me  is  a  good  plant  and  will 
be  a  great  blessing  to  the  earth  and  air  that 
have  fed  it.' 

"  Beauty  speaks  for  virtue  wherever  it  is 
seen.  I  only  have  to  look  into  your  face, 
Hilda,  to  know  that  you  are  a  good  girl,  good 
just  as  those  fine,  glowing  tulips  are  good, 
and  as  worthy  to  be  loved.  And  there  is  that 
little  bush  all  twisted  and  wrinkled,  but  it  is 
covered  with  rich  green  leaves  and  perfect 
blossoms,  so  I  know  it  is  a  good  bush,  too, 
and  will  give  life  to  others,  even  better  per- 
haps. It  is  like  Primrose  here.  The  bush 
itself  in  her  case  is  not  so  comely  as  in  yours ; 
but  the  leaves  are  sweet  and  green,  and  the 
blossoms  are  beautiful." 

Primrose  smiled  on  her  father  and  was 
very  happy.  Hilda  looked  from  her  to  the 
bush  and  laughed.  She  may  have  under- 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  157 

stood  very  little  of  all  this ;  but  it  was  from 
such  seeds  as  these  that  her  philosophy 
grew. 

For  several  days  after  this,  Primrose  often 
found  Hilda  gazing  earnestly  upon  her  face. 
She  only  smiled  when  she  noticed  this,  but 
it  caused  her  to  wonder.  At  last  Hilda 
said,  — 

"  Primrose,  is  your  smile  the  blossom  ? " 

"  I  hardly  knew  myself  just  what  it  was," 
replied  Primrose ;  "  but  perhaps  that  is  it." 

As  the  summer  passed,  Mr.  Alexander 
began  to  feel  a  horror  of  the  approaching 
separation.  He  spent  more  and  more  time 
in  the  garden.  He  was  seldom  there  later 
than  noon,  and  he  often  came  to  breakfast  to 
remain  for  the  day.  When  he  was  there, 
Hilda  was  near  him.  She  seemed  to  make 
it  a  point  to  include  him  in  whatever  she  did. 
He  sometimes  felt  a  little  ashamed  of  his 
growing  dependence  on  her  and  would  get 
up  from  the  porch  where  he  had  been  sitting, 
while  she  was  helping  Primrose  within,  and 
join  Mr.  Mott,  who  was  forever  fussing  with 
some  vine,  or  tree,  or  plant  in  his  experiment 
house.  As  long  as  he  remained  on  the  porch, 
Hilda  would  call  to  him  now  and  then  to  tell 


158  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

him  what  she  and  Primrose  were  doing,  or, 
having  left  Alice  in  his  care,  would  appear 
in  the  doorway  at  intervals  to  see  how  he 
fared.  If  he  walked  away,  she  seemed  to 
forget  him  and  become  at  once  engrossed 
with  her  work  and  Primrose.  They  had  a 
great  deal  to  do,  these  two,  for  besides  the 
housework,  they  looked  after  the  vegetable 
beds  and  the  new  enclosure  where,  every 
day,  something  was  waiting  to  be  done. 
But  you  may  be  sure  none  of  this  was  work 
to  them.  It  was  that  which  gave  the  greatest 
zest  to  the  day  at  hand  and  made  the  morrow 
seem  too  far  away. 

When  the  housework  was  done,  and  they 
went  into  the  garden,  trowel  or  hoe  in  hand, 
each  wearing  a  sunbonnet  and  a  long  apron, 
Hilda  would  look  up  Mr.  Alexander.  If  he 
seemed  to  be  contented  where  he  was,  hav- 
ing found  some  topic  to  discuss  with  his 
friend,  or  some  experiment  he  was  interested 
in  watching,  she  would  stand  near  him  a 
moment,  holding  his  hand,  and  then,  without 
disturbing  him,  return  to  Primrose.  If  he 
seemed  only  to  be  waiting  for  her,  she  would 
say:  "Come  on,  Uncle  Minot,  I  am  going 
to  plant  me  a  rose-bush  to-day,  near  the 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  159 

fountain,"  or,  "  My  vines  have  climbed  so 
high  on  the  summer-house  I  can't  reach 
them.  Even  Primrose  needs  a  step-ladder 
for  hers.  Come  and  help  me." 

Sometimes  he  would  walk  away  just  for 
the  delight  of  having  her  come  for  him.  It 
gave  him  the  keenest  pleasure  he  had  ever 
known  to  hear  her  approaching  as  he  stood 
listening  for  her  feet,  and  to  feel  her  hand 
slip  into  his. 

June  and  July  passed,  and  Hilda  had  not 
once  spoken  of  the  island  nor  of  her  mother. 
Even  the  asylum  seemed  to  have  gone  from 
her  mind.  Now  it  happened  one  day  that 
Mr.  Alexander  was  sitting  in  the  new  sum- 
mer-house reading.  Primrose  was  sewing 
near  by,  and,  just  outside,  Hilda  was  talking 
to  her  rose  vines. 

"  Now,  Pierre,"  she  was  saying,  "  we  are 
both  very  beautiful.  I  know  you  will  have 
wonderful  blossoms  some  day,  and  I  hope  I 
will,  too.  Uncle  Christopher  says  I  will,  and 
he  knows.  O  dear,  I  wish  we  were  already 
clear  over  the  roof,  for  then  we  would  be 
grown  up,  and  you  could  really  and  truly 
come  to  me.  If  you  only  knew  how  I  love 
you,  Pierre ! " 


160  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

Primrose  glanced  at  Mr.  Alexander  and 
smiled,  but  he  was  looking  toward  Hilda  in 
amazement. 

"  Hilda,  Hilda,"  he  called  sharply,  "  what 
are  you  talking  about  ?  Who  is  Pierre  ?  " 

There  was  instant  silence  outside. 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  ?  "  cried  Primrose, 
angrily.  "  She  was  just  talking  to  some  boy 
of  her  fancy.  You  have  frightened  her." 

She  looked  at  him  reproachfully  and  hur- 
ried to  Hilda.  She  found  her  sitting  on  the 
ground,  as  still  as  a  statue. 

"  Never  mind,"  she  said.  "  Your  Uncle 
Minot  is  reading  some  awful  book,  I  guess, 
and  it  made  him  speak  without  thinking." 

Mr.  Alexander  watched  them  through  the 
slats  and  vines  and  felt  very  much  ashamed 
of  himself.  He  saw  Hilda  peer  cautiously 
at  him,  and  he  smiled  his  apology.  She 
smiled  back  at  once  and  whispered  to  Prim- 
rose :  "  He  is  all  right  now.  My,  but  he 
surprised  me ! " 

Mr.  Alexander  returned  to  his  book,  but 
he  could  not  read.  He  was  sorry  he  had 
spoken  harshly  to  Hilda,  but  he  could  not 
forget  at  once  the  alarm  he  had  felt. 

After  a  time  he  said  softly,  so  that  Hilda 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  161 

would  not  hear :  "  Primrose,  are  you  sure 
that  she  has  not  made  some  acquaintances 
around  here  ?  Does  she  ever  stand  by  the 
fence  and  talk  to  the  children  on  the  street?" 

"  I  am  sure  she  does  not.  Don't  you  think 
you  are  foolish,  now?  She  is  too  busy  all 
day  with  father  or  with  me,  when  you  are 
away." 

"  No,  Primrose,  I  am  not  foolish.  I  want 
her  to  be  happy.  She  is  getting  old  enough 
now  to  remember.  I  can  see  how  she  ma- 
tures every  day.  I  don't  know  that  I  ought 
to  send  her  even  to  the  convent,  but  she 
ought  not  to  be  kept  penned  in  here.  There, 
at  least,  she  will  have  none  but  young  girls 
and  the  sisters  about  her.  But  no  boys, 
Primrose  —  we  must  not  let  her  know  any 
boys." 

Primrose  laughed. 

"  That  is  all  right,"  he  said,  smiling ;  "  but 
boys  and  girls  ought  never  to  see  each  other. 
When  men  and  women  are  forty,  they  some- 
times know  what  is  good  for  them,  and  can 
distinguish  between  love  and  the  springtime. 
It  is  not  safe  for  them  to  meet  before." 

He  had  forgotten  Hilda,  and  spoke  with 
considerable  vigour.  That  evening,  as  they 


1 62  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

were  getting  the  supper,  Hilda  said  to  Prim- 
rose, — 

"  What  is  a  convent  ? " 

This  question  took  even  Primrose  by  sur- 
prise. She  considered  for  a  moment,  and 
replied :  — 

"  It  is  a  great  house,  like  a  palace  in  a  gar- 
den, much  larger  and  more  beautiful  than 
ours.  Hundreds  of  little  girls  go  there  and 
sing  and  sew  and  learn  how  to  read." 

"  But  must  I  go  there  ?  I  don't  want  to, 
Primrose.  It  seems  as  if  I  was  always  going 
away." 

"  Oh,  Hilda,  you  must  not  think  of  it  that 
way.  You  will  never  really  leave  us,  you 
know.  You  will  be  our  Hilda  as  long  as 
you  live." 

The  child  ran  to  her  and  hid  her  face  in 
her  dress.  These  two  seldom  kissed  each 
other,  but  when  they  did  it  meant  some- 
thing. Primrose  stooped,  and,  putting  her 
arms  about  her,  hugged  and  kissed  her  good, 
and  her  heart  was  no  longer  troubled. 

Primrose  spent  most  of  her  time  in  August 
sewing.  Mr.  Alexander  had  written  to  Sis- 
ter Pelagia,  simply  announcing  his  adoption 
of  Hilda  and  his  intention  of  sending  her  to 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  163 

the  convent  in  the  fall.  She  replied  to  his 
letter  as  briefly,  but  she  made  plain  the  pleas- 
ure she  felt  in  his  happiness,  and  he  knew 
she  would  take  good  care  of  his  ward.  She 
enclosed  a  copy  of  the  "  Regulations  of  ward- 
robe articles  required."  He  looked  at  it  in 
astonishment,  and  took  it  at  once  to  Prim- 
rose. It  was  a  formidable  list. 

"  I  will  give  you  the  money  to  buy  these 
things,"  he  said,  "  if  it  will  not  trouble  you 
too  much.  Can  you  get  them  all  ready 
made?" 

"  The  idea,"  laughed  Primrose ;  "  do  you 
suppose  I  would  buy  them  or  let  any  one 
else  make  them?  I  will  get  the  cloth  at 
once  and  make  every  bit  of  her  clothing 
myself.  It  is  terrible  to  have  her  go,"  she 
added  with  a  faltering  voice.  "  I  will  at  least 
know  that  a  trunkful  of  love  goes  with  her." 

Primrose  determined  that  there  should  be 
as  little  grief  in  Hilda's  going  as  possible. 
Above  all  things  the  child  must  not  feel  that 
she  was  being  sent  away.  Hilda  had  brought 
to  her  more  than  two  months  of  supreme  hap- 
piness. They  had  understood  each  other 
from  the  first,  and  every  hour  had  increased 
the  intimacy  of  their  relations.  The  child 


1 64  A  PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

did  not  know  how  rare  was  such  a  tender 
and  complete  affection,  and  how  great  the 
loss  of  such  a  companionship  would  be ;  but 
the  woman  did.  And  yet  the  one  purpose 
of  Primrose  was  to  create  in  Hilda  a  desire 
to  go.  She  talked  to  her  of  the  fairies  that 
played  in  the  moonlight  in  the  convent 
grounds.  She  told  her  stories  of  beautiful 
nuns,  and  one  of  a  little  princess  who  went 
to  a  convent  to  live  because  it  was  the  hap- 
piest place  in  her  whole  kingdom. 

"  And  just  think  of  all  the  things  you  must 
take  with  you,  —  twelve  pairs  of  stockings. 
Why,  I  don't  think  the  princess  had  as  many 
as  that ;  and  two  aprons,  and  three  dresses, 
two  pairs  of  shoes,  and  six  little  underskirts, 
and  waists  with  wide  embroidery,  and  twelve 
pocket  handkerchiefs  with  your  name  worked 
on  them  in  white  silk.  You  will  have  two 
long,  white  veils,  flowing  almost  to  your  feet, 
which  you  will  wear  when  you  go  to  the 
chapel  with  all  the  other  little  girls  in  long 
veils.  And  a  toilet  set  like  the  one  on  my 
bureau,  only  new  and  much  prettier." 

"  O  dear,"  Hilda  sighed,  "  I  wish  I  could 
have  all  these  things  and  stay  here  be- 
sides." 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  165 

"  Don't  you  think  the  princess  was  quite 
happy  there?  She  said  she  was." 

"  But  she  didn't  have  you,  nor  Uncle 
Minot,  nor  Uncle  Christopher,  either." 

"  You  will  take  a  real  silver  goblet,  and  a 
knife  and  fork,  a  table,  and  a  teaspoon,  a 
napkin  ring,  and  six  napkins.  Then  there 
is  the  workbox  with  a  strong  lock  and  key. 
And  in  the  workbox  there  will  be  needles 
and  thread,  a  ball  of  wax  and  a  thimble,  a 
pair  of  bright  shears  and  darning  cotton. 

"  And  the  best  thing  of  all  is  the  portfolio 
with  blue  paper  and  envelopes.  For  you  will 
learn  to  write  and  to  read,  and  we  will  send 
long,  long  letters  to  each  other.  You  will 
write  to  Uncle  Minot  and  get  letters  from 
him.  I  will  have  Uncle  Christopher  tell 
you  a  new  story  every  evening,  and  when 
you  read  them  you  will  think  you  are  curled 
up  in  your  end  of  the  bench  on  the  porch." 

When  all  this  had  been  repeated  several 
times,  Hilda  began  to  enjoy  it  as  she  would 
a  fairy  tale.  She  ceased  to  interrupt  with 
wishes  and  objections  and  began  to  make 
additions  of  her  own.  The  idea  of  the  letters 
pleased  her,  and  she  would  sometimes  play 
at  writing  one,  telling  Primrose  what  she 


1 66  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

said.  When  they  went  shopping  together, 
and  she  was  allowed  to  look  at  everything 
as  long  as  she  wished  and  to  choose  what 
she  must  have  for  herself,  all  her  dread  of 
going  was  forgotten  in  her  delight.  Then 
came  the  long,  happy,  busy  days,  when  she 
sat  with  Primrose  and  helped  to  make  the 
clothes. 

At  first,  when  Mr.  Alexander  found  them 
so  engaged,  he  sat  near  them,  watching  with 
a  sorrowful  face.  But  Primrose  would  not 
allow  this. 

"  You  know  how  quick  she  is  to  respond 
to  the  feelings  of  others.  If  you  are  sad,  she 
will  grieve.  Since  she  must  go,  don't  you 
want  her  to  take  a  light  heart  with  her  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  I  will  be 
cheerful.  Can  it  be,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  that  I  am  jealous  of  the  very  happiness  I 
wished  for  her  ?  " 

On  the  day  of  the  departure  Primrose  and 
Hilda  rose  very  early  and  went  into  the 
garden.  They  walked  hand-in-hand  along 
the  paths,  leaving  tender  good-bys  and  tearful 
kisses  for  the  little  cousins  and  nephews  and 
nieces  dwelling  in  the  arbours  and  bushes. 
Primrose  joined  in  Hilda's  adieus  uncon- 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  167 

sciously.  She  had  at  first  intended  to  go 
with  Mr.  Alexander  and  Hilda  to  the  con- 
vent, but  now  that  the  child  was  reconciled 
to  the  separation,  she  did  not  have  the 
courage  for  the  journey,  during  which  she 
must  assume  a  delight  she  could  not  feel. 
But  though  she  was  to  remain  behind,  she 
was,  in  reality,  taking  leave  of  all  these 
creatures  of  her  fancy  with  Hilda.  Her 
heart  was  now  with  the  child  and  could 
never  again  be  satisfied  with  shadows. 

"  Good-by,  good-by,"  said  Hilda  to  all  the 
garden.  "  Good-by,"  whispered  Primrose  to 
the  phantoms. 

"  You  will  talk  to  my  rose  vines,  Primrose, 
and  not  let  them  be  lonesome  ?  " 

"  I  will  talk  to  them  of  you  every  day. 
When  you  come  back  they  will  be  covered 
with  blooms.  I  will  send  you  the  first  bud." 

"Will  that  be  long?" 

"Only  a  little  while.  You  will  be  here 
again  before  we  know  it." 

But  Primrose  knew  that  the  Hilda  who 
looked  back  at  her  with  tearful  eyes,  and 
who  threw  her  kisses  as  long  as  the  carriage 
was  in  sight,  would  never  return.  A  multi- 
tude of  strangers  —  strange  winds  and  land- 


1 68  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

scapes,  strange  hopes  and  sorrows,  strange 
people  and  desires  —  would  come  between 
them  in  a  year. 

The  soul  is  like  an  inn  on  the  highway 
and  may  be  leased  and  transformed  by  a 
lodger  of  a  night.  And  yet  there  are  places 
here  and  there  where  an  old  guest,  return- 
ing, finds  the  chamber  he  once  occupied  still 
known  by  his  name. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  RIDE  of  a  day  and  a  night  brought  Mr. 
Alexander  and  Hilda  to  New  York.  Hilda 
had  found  a  little  girl  about  her  own  age  on 
the  train  with  whom  she  soon  established 
visiting  relations.  Edna  was  an  only  child 
and  possessed  something  of  the  premature 
gravity  of  those  whose  first  six  years  are 
spent  entirely  with  grown  folks.  She  had 
been  a  year  in  school,  however,  and  had 
become  a  profound  scholar  in  the  eyes  of 
Hilda.  She  could  already  read  everything 
in  a  number  of  gayly  coloured  books  she  pro- 
duced from  her  own  portmanteau,  and  very 
graciously  read  the  stories  that  accompanied 
the  pictures  most  pleasing  to  Hilda.  Then 
she  had  travelled  in  trains  before  and  had  no 
fear  of  walking  up  and  down  the  long  car. 
She  could  help  herself  to  water  from  the  lit- 
tle tank  at  one  end,  and  taught  Hilda  how 
to  press  down  the  lever  and  hold  her  cup 
under  properly.  This  they  did  often  during 

169 


170  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

the  day.  She  also  knew  how  to  count  the 
telegraph  poles.  She  had  learned  a  number 
of  songs  at  school  and  taught  them  all  to 
Hilda,  who  picked  them  up  as  readily  as  a 
bird  does  the  lay  of  its  tribe.  They  sang, 
and  sang,  and  swung  their  legs  and  sang, 
oblivious  of  their  smiling  audience.  Edna's 
mamma  was  a  beautiful  woman ;  beautiful  in 
the  eyes  of  Hilda  and  Mr.  Alexander,  of  the 
Pullman  conductor,  of  the  old  lady  across  the 
aisle,  and  the  drummer,  who,  wishing  to  look 
at  her  now  and  then,  took  a  place  on  a  vacant 
seat  behind  her  where  she  would  not  notice 
it.  That  is  to  say,  she  was  lovely  in  both 
soul  and  body.  There  were  times  when 
Hilda  was  content  to  just  sit  quietly  near 
and  gaze  adoringly  into  her  face.  The  chil- 
dren were  very  fair  with  each  other  and 
played  hostess  or  guest  in  turn. 

Mr.  Alexander  scarcely  heeded  their  com- 
ing or  going.  He  was  glad  that  Hilda  was 
happy  with  her  little  friend ;  but  this  journey, 
which  bore  her  toward  the  future,  was  taking 
him  as  swiftly  into  the  past.  In  a  few  hours 
he  would  be  again  in  the  presence  of  his 
youth ;  he  would  touch  the  hand  and  look 
into  the  eyes  of  the  girl  he  had  always  loved. 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  171 

He  had  never  seen  Mother  Pelagia  and  had 
no  conception  of  her,  but  his  Betty  was 
always  before  his  eyes.  He  had  forgotten 
her  wilful  and  imperious  ways,  and  remem- 
bered only  those  times  when  she  had  loved 
him  tenderly  and  without  reserve.  The  ful- 
filment of  his  dreams  of  her  was,  in  part, 
suggested  by  Edna's  mamma,  for  in  her  he 
could  fancy  the  maturity  of  Betty's  girlish 
beauty.  When  she  smiled  at  him  now  and 
then  as  the  children  sang  or  played,  he 
acknowledged  the  sign  with  a  grave  inclina- 
tion of  the  head  ;  but  it  brought  a  melancholy 
pleasure  to  his  heart.  Most  men  marry,  but 
among  the  few  bachelors  of  the  world  are 
the  truest  lovers.  The  man  who  in  his 
wooing  never  for  a  moment  ceases  to  idealize 
his  mistress,  seldom  wins  her.  She  will  lean 
from  her  window  and  listen  to  his  song,  but 
if  he  would  carry  her  off,  he  must  take  her 
weakness  for  granted  and  possess  some  of 
the  wit  of  a  brigand. 

"  Hilda,"  said  the  lady,  "  will  you  and  your 
Uncle  Minot  eat  luncheon  with  Edna  and 
me  ?  There  is  enough  for  us  all  in  our 
basket." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  Hilda,  "  I  will  ask  him." 


172  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

Mr.  Alexander  returned  with  her  and 
said :  "  This  is  very  kind  of  you,  but  I  think 
Hilda  and  I  had  better  go  to  the  dining- 


car." 


"  No,"  she  answered.  "  You  must  not  be 
so  selfish." 

"  Would  you  call  that  selfish  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  would.  You  know  where  you 
are  going  and  why,  and  all  you  care  for  is  to 
get  there  as  soon  as  possible  and  to  miss  as 
little  as  you  may  of  your  usual  comforts  on 
the  way.  Now,  you  may  not  know  it,  but 
the  one  thing  that  reconciles  a  child  to  a 
long  journey  is  the  lunch  box." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  replied,  very 
glad  to  take  a  seat  beside  her.  "  Come  to 
think  of  it,  the  only  thing  I  remember  of  my 
first  trip  was  the  cold  chicken  and  doughnuts 
my  mother  gave  me  from  her  bag." 

"  Hilda  tells  me  she  is  going  to  school  at 
a  convent.  I  am  taking  Edna  to  Our  Lady 
of  Peace." 

"  Are  you  ?     Hilda  goes  there,  too." 

"  Oh,  Hilda  ! "  exclaimed  Edna  under  her 
breath,  "  did  you  hear  that  ?  We  will  have 
our  houses  close  together  in  the  nursery,  and 
perhaps  Sister  Cordelia  will  let  us  sleep  next 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  173 

to  each   other.     You  will   just   love   Sister 
Cordelia." 

"  Well,"  said  the  woman,  laughing,  "  my 
child's  name  is  Edna  Wilson." 

"  Hilda  has  been  given  my  own  name  — 
Alexander." 

"  You  will  not  be  sorry  you  placed  her 
there.  It  is  a  beautiful  convent,  and  the  sis- 
ters in  charge  of  the  school  are  just  happy, 
light-hearted  children  grown  up.  Most  of 
them  entered  the  convent  when  they  were 
young  girls,  and  they  seem  to  think  that  all 
the  world  is  just  like  their  own  hearts.  The 
sisters  who  take  care  of  the  children  and  who 
teach  have  all  been  selected  first  for  their 
lovely  natures,  and  then  taught  music  and 
literature  and  drawing  and  whatever  is  re- 
quired to  fit  them  for  instructors.  If  you  wish 
only  innocence  and  happiness  and  beauty  to 
surround  a  child,  the  convent  of  Our  Lady 
of  Peace  is  the  place  for  her.  Do  you  think 
it  is  better  to  bring  up  a  child  ignorant  of 
misery  and  evil  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  do." 

"  I  really  don't  believe  it  makes  any  differ- 
ence. A  man  or  a  woman  must  learn  to 
choose  the  good,  and  it  is  as  difficult  to  do 


174  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

that  in  one  place  as  another.  It  is  not  the 
beauty  that  is  thrust  upon  us  that  counts, 
but  only  what  we  acquire.  My  mother  was 
brought  up  in  a  convent  and  ran  a-way  with 
my  father  two  weeks  after  she  came  out. 
But  fortunately  he  was  a  good  man  and  they 
were  happy.  My  aunt,  her  only  sister,  was 
a  harum-scarum  girl,  I  am  told,  and  yet, 
after  breaking  the  hearts  of  some  score  of 
lovers,  she  entered  the  convent  we  are 
now  going  to  and  has  become  its  reverend 
mother." 

"Good  heavens!"  said  Mr.  Alexander  with 
a  start,  "  are  you  the  daughter  of  Betty's  little 
sister?" 

"  You  don't  mean,"  gasped  Mrs.  Wilson, 
"  that  you  are  that  Mr.  Alexander  I  have 
always  heard  about?" 

Most  of  us  cherish  a  family  romance  of 
which  we  have  heard  hints  and  whispers. 
Perhaps  we  have  even  caught  a  glimpse  of 
our  end  of  it  —  the  uncle  who  has  shot  his 
rival ;  the  aunt  who  eloped  with  a  sailor  who 
was  lost  at  sea;  but  it  rarely  comes  to  us  to 
meet  the  mysterious,  the  dreaded,  the  only- 
to-be-mentioned-in-whispers  other  one  that 
figured  in  this  old  affair. 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  175 

So  Mrs.  Wilson  stared  and  dropped  her 
eyes,  and  blushed  and  stared  again. 

"  The  daughter  of  Betty's  little  sister," 
murmured  Mr.  Alexander.  But  even  now 
he  could  not  realize  it.  He  still  saw  his 
sweetheart,  younger  than  this  woman  before 
him,  by  ten  years. 

"  And  there  are  apples  there  so  big,"  said 
Edna,  "and  there  is  a  squirrel  out  by  the 
grotto  so  tame  that  he  comes  and  takes 
things  right  out  of  my  hand." 

"  Oh,  does  he  ?  Do  you  suppose  he  would 
me,  too  ? " 

"  Of  course  he  will,"  said  Edna,  emphati- 
cally. "  I'll  just  tell  him  to." 

That  night  the  two  children  slept  in  the 
same  berth.  They  went  to  sleep  in  each 
other's  arms,  whispering  of  all  they  would 
do  together,  and  how  they  would  love  each 
other  forever  and  ever. 

The  next  morning,  as  Hilda  looked  from 
the  ferry  up  and  down  the  river  they  were 
crossing,  a  strange  feeling  of  sorrow  came 
to  her.  She  forgot  where  she  was  going, 
and  even  the  presence  of  those  about  her 
whom  she  knew.  She  seemed  to  be  sud- 
denly alone  and  far  away.  It  was  her  first 


176  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

touch  of  that  homesickness  which  steals 
over  the  heart  even  when  there  is  every 
reason  for  content.  She  looked  at  the  won- 
derful city  before  her  and  felt  that  she  ought 
not  to  be  going  there — alone.  It  was  only 
a  passing  feeling  and  she,  of  course,  could 
not  have  told  the  reason  for  it,  nor  who  nor 
what  she  missed,  but  it  was  none  the  less 
significant  for  that.  The  drive  through  the 
city  and  along  the  country  road  near  the 
river  was  full  of  excitement  for  both  her  and 
Edna.  Everything  they  saw  was  wonderful. 
They  expected  to  see  the  marvellous  on  every 
hand,  and  it  was  there.  They  felt  that  they 
were  missing  even  more  than  they  saw,  and 
therein  lay  the  secret  of  their  enchantment. 
As  soon  as  the  country  was  reached,  Edna 
was  sure  that  the  convent  lay  just  beyond 
each  bend  in  the  road.  It  was  not  long 
before  they  really  reached  it  and  turned  in 
between  the  great  stone  columns  of  the  gate- 
way. There  was  a  little  ivy-covered  lodge 
at  the  entrance  that  reminded  Hilda  for  a 
moment  of  Primrose  and  the  cottage.  Then 
came  a  long  winding  gravel  road, —  "The 
Way  of  the  Holy  Angels,"  that  took  them 
through  a  deep  wood,  past  an  open  grove 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  177 

in  the  midst  of  which  were  a  group  of 
ponds,  surrounding  a  broad  knoll,  where 
stood  the  grotto  of  "  Our  Lady  of  Lourdes." 
Presently  they  heard  a  babble  of  voices  and 
saw  some  thirty  girls  in  a  great  orchard  to 
their  left.  Some  were  in  the  trees,  and  as 
they  shook  the  branches,  heavy  with  fruit, 
the  apples  fell  in  showers  into  the  long 
grass.  A  number  of  the  smaller  children 
recognized  Edna,  apd  shouting  to  her,  ran 
after  the  carriage,  holding  tight  to  their 
aprons  filled  with  spoil.  A  stone  wall 
skirted  the  right  of  the  road,  and  rolling 
away  from  this  was  a  low  hill  that  hid  the 
convent  until  a  sharp  turn  brought  the 
majestic  buildings  suddenly  into  full  view. 
At  the  foot  of  a  long,  grassy  slope  was  the 
Hudson,  extending  as  far  to  the  north  as 
the  eye  could  see.  Across  the  wide  river 
rose  the  Palisades,  where  the  deep  green 
of  the  trees  was  plainly  mottled  with  the 
colours  of  autumn.  The  meanest  soul  could 
not  come  upon  such  a  scene  as  this  without 
some  emotion.  Mr.  Alexander  stood  upon 
the  porch  of  the  convent,  hat  in  hand,  and 
gazed  around  him.  Just  below  him  was  a 
terrace,  at  the  foot  of  which  ran  "  The  Car- 


178  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

dinal's  Walk."  Here  were  marble  statues 
of  the  saints,  with  flaming  beds  of  salvias 
and  marigolds  and  cannas  in  between.  A 
fountain,  supported  by  marble  angels,  was 
playing  in  the  centre  of  the  walk.  The 
great  sloping  lawn  bore  a  few  fine  trees. 
Summer-houses  and  benches  were  placed 
at  points  where  the  view  was  good.  Here 
he  saw  a  number  of  the  sisters  sitting,  read- 
ing, conversing,  or  tranquilly  looking  out 
upon  the  river.  Two  of  them  were  at  the 
farther  side  of  the  lawn,  in  a  little  grove  of 
maples,  stooping  now  and  then  for  a  finely 
coloured  leaf.  The  only  sounds  in  all  that 
vast  scene  were  the  call  of  the  birds,  the 
voices  of  the  children,  and  the  water  of  the 
fountain.  Presently  from  the  great  clock 
far  above  him,  came  twelve  deep  strokes. 
It  was  noon.  The  Angelus  was  sounded, 
and  a  moment  after  he  heard  from  the 
depths  of  the  building  the  tinkle  of  smaller 
bells.  But  none  of  these  sounds  seemed  to 
break  the  silence.  They  were  the  calm, 
sweet  voices  of  the  Spirit  dwelling  there. 

Mr.  Alexander  followed  Mrs.  Wilson  and 
the  children  into  the  convent.  As  he  stood 
in  the  dim  corridors,  before  the  sister  who 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  179 

had  come  to  receive  them,  he  found  it 
difficult  to  speak. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  Mother  Pelagia,"  he 
said,  handing  her  his  card.  Mrs.  Wilson 
put  her  hand  on  his  arm,  gently  saying,  "  I 
will  look  after  the  children." 

"  Mamma,  O  mamma,"  cried  Edna,  joyfully, 
"  here  is  Sister  Cordelia." 

"And  who  is  this?"  said  the  sister,  tak- 
ing Edna's  hand  and  coming  at  once  toward 
Hilda. 

"That  is  Hilda.  And,  Sister,  can  she 
have  her  things  in  the  nursery  and  her  bed 
next  to  mine  ?  And  we  want  to  sit  together 
at  the  table,  and  everything;  may  we,  Sister?" 

"  But  how  about  Polly  ?  "  asked  the  sister, 
smiling.  "She  came  yesterday,  and  has 
been  just  homesick  for  you." 

"  But  can't  Polly  be  next  to  us,  too  ?  " 

"  We  will  try  to  arrange  it  that  way. 
Shall  we  go  to  the  nursery  now?  All  your 
friends  are  there  expecting  you.  They  came 
running  in  and  told  me  you  were  here." 

"  Where  is  mamma  ?  "  Edna  asked,  with  a 
sudden  glance  of  apprehension  about  her. 
She  remembered  something  like  this  before, 
when  going  with  Sister  Cordelia  to  the  nur- 


l8o  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

sery.  She  had  not  seen  her  mother  again 
for  almost  a  year. 

"  Where  is  mamma  ? "  she  said  again  in 
affright,  for  she  did  not  see  her. 

"  Here  I  am,"  came  a  tearful  voice  from 
the  shadows,  and  her  mother  came  toward 
her. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  don't  leave  me  again !  Don't 
go !  You  won't,  will  you  ?  " 

"  But  I  must,  you  know.  You  will  be  very 
happy  here,  Edna,  and  you  must  not  cry  now. 
Don't  you  see  that  Hilda  is  a  stranger  here  ? 
She  has  no  mamma  at  all.  You  must  take 
care  of  her,  dear." 

Hilda  had  been,  from  her  first  entrance, 
affected  by  the  silence  and  solemnity  of  this 
shadowy  and  mysterious  place.  It  was  cer- 
tainly not  fear  that  oppressed  her ;  there  was 
nothing  here  to  inspire  that  even  in  a  child. 
She  had  been  attracted  toward  Sister  Cor- 
delia by  her  face  and  voice ;  but  she  won- 
dered at  her  black  robes,  the  girdle  of  beads, 
the  pendent  cross,  and  the  black  bonnet. 
She  glanced  timidly  about  her  and  was  afraid 
she  would  cry.  When  Edna  called  for  her 
mamma,  and  then  gave  voice  to  her  grief  and 
fright,  she  turned  and  ran  to  Mr.  Alexander. 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  181 

She  did  not  speak,  but  took  his  hand  and 
pressed  close  beside  him. 

He  stroked  her  hair,  scarcely  thinking  of 
her. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  can  like  me,  Hilda? " 
said  Sister  Cordelia.  Hilda  smiled  at  her 
shyly  and  nodded. 

"  I  think  you  can,  too."  She  held  out  her 
hand  and  said,  "  Will  you  come  with  me 
now?" 

Hilda  looked  up  at  Mr.  Alexander. 

"Yes,"  he  said  absently;  "go  now  with  the 
sister." 

Then,  as  he  was  recalled  to  the  present 
and  the  fact  that  she  was  leaving  him,  he 
added  tenderly :  "  Good-by,  little  one.  If 
you  love  me,  be  happy.  That  is  all  I 
ask." 

The  child  moved  quietly  away,  her  lips 
trembling  a  little. 

"  See,"  said  Mrs.  Wilson,  "  Hilda  does  not 
cry,  and  she  has  no  mamma.  Will  you  let 
her  go  down  to  the  children  without  you  ?  " 

"  Sister  Cordelia,"  called  Edna,  plaintively, 
"  please  wait  for  me.  I  am  coming,  Sister. 
Oh,  Hilda,"  she  said  between  her  half-stifled 
sobs,  "we  must  not  cry;  must  we,  Sister? " 


1 82  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"I  don't  want  to,"  said  Hilda;  but  the 
effort  to  speak  seemed  to  loose  her  tears, 
and  the  two  children,  each  holding  a  hand  of 
the  sister,  passed  down  the  steps  to  the  base- 
ment, their  faces  wet  even  as  they  protested 
that  they  must  not  cry. 

So  they  came  to  the  door  of  the  nursery. 
Hilda  stopped  short  in  the  midst  of  a  sob 
and  opened  her  eyes  in  wonder  that  quickly 
changed  to  joy.  Never  had  she  seen  such  a 
sight  before.  No  chamber  in  the  ogre's  pal- 
ace had  held  such  delights.  Before  her  was 
a  little  room  filled  with  sunlight,  that  came 
through  two  windows  reaching  from  floor  to 
ceiling,  and  looking  out  upon  a  green  hill- 
side. Along  the  walls  were  ranged  two  rows 
of  boxes,  which  she  could  see  at  a  glance 
were  houses  furnished  with  wonderful  com- 
pleteness and  elegance.  Most  of  these  houses 
were  empty  now,  for  the  inhabitants  and  most 
of  the  movable  furniture  were  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  There  were  twelve  little  rock- 
ing chairs,  with  a  doll  in  each.  There  were 
dolls  sitting  propped  against  tables,  and  dolls 
stretched  out  on  the  floor.  There  were  great 
fat  dolls  with  blooming  faces  and  masses  of 
yellow  curls,  and  olive-complexioned  dolls 


A  PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  183 

with  coal-black  hair.  And  such  dresses  !  The 
whole  room  danced  with  the  gleam  and  glint 
from  the  silks  and  satins  of  crimson,  blue,  and 
yellow.  Here  was  a  little  sewing  machine, 
and  there  a  wardrobe  with  its  doors  open, 
revealing  skirts  and  underskirts,  waists  and 
hats  and  cloaks  and  jackets.  Here  was  a 
wonderful  dwelling  house,  the  palace  of  a 
princess,  five  stories  high,  with  doors  and 
windows  and  cupolas,  and  there  a  spinning- 
wheel  and  reel.  These,  and  numberless  other 
marvels,  —  such  as  tables  set  for  tea,  and  a 
washing  on  a  line,  and  writing  desks,  and 
flat-irons,  and  quilting  frames,  —  were  what 
she  saw,  not,  of  course,  as  I  have  named 
them,  in  detail,  but  as  a  grand  and  bewilder- 
ing whole,  the  view  one  would  get  of  it  in  a 
single  glance.  For  as  soon  as  they  appeared 
in  the  doorway,  they  were  greeted  by  Polly 
and  Edith  and  Maggie  and  Rose  and  Susie 
and  Nellie  and  May. 

They  gathered  about  Edna  with  eager 
questions,  and  received  Hilda  into  their 
midst  without  reserve. 

Polly  was  jealous  for  one  brief  moment, 
but  it  could  not  last.  She  agreed  at  once 
that  Hilda  should  have  her  place  on  the 


1 84  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

other  side  of  Edna,  and  should  be  in  all 
things  their  sworn  friend  and  abetter. 

"  But  you  will  let  me  show  her  the  oratory, 
won't  you  ?  "  said  Nellie.  "  And  I  want  the 
chapel,"  said  Edith.  "  I  will  take  her  to  St. 
Thomas's  Circle,"  said  Susie.  "  Can  I  have 
the  grotto  ? "  asked  Rose.  "  Come  on,"  cried 
Maggie,  "  let's  all  take  her  out  to  the  orchard. 
The  big  girls  will  get  all  the  apples." 

A  chorus  of  assent  greeted  this  proposition, 
and  the  suggestion  at  the  end  of  it  acted  as 
a  whip.  Sister  Cordelia  saw  them  scamper 
away,  almost  forgetting  Hilda  in  their  eager- 
ness, and  marvelled  for  the  thousandth  time 
at  the  innocence  and  shrewdness,  the  affec- 
tion and  thoughtlessness,  of  children. 

As  Mr.  Alexander  waited  in  a  little  room 
decorated  in  blue  and  gold  and  lighted  by  a 
window  overlooking  the  lawns,  he  heard  a 
faint,  sweet  melody.  A  sister  was  playing 
a  hymn  on  the  great  organ  in  the  chapel,  and 
the  strains,  passing  through  the  thick  walls 
and  along  the  high  corridors,  came  to  him 
like  the  purified  music  we  sometimes  hear 
in  dreams.  As  he  waited  and  listened,  he 
saw  a  slender,  black-robed  figure  coming 
quickly  toward  him  through  the  dark  corri- 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  185 

dor.  He  knew  it  was  a  nun  and  his  heart 
stood  still,  for  it  might  be  Betty.  When  she 
entered  the  bright  room  and  stood  before 
him,  however,  he  saw  a  little  old  lady  with 
white  hair  showing  beneath  her  quaint  bon- 
net. He  bowed  gravely  and  looked  away. 

"  My  friend,"  said  the  nun,  softly, "  did  you 
wish  to  see  Mother  Pelagia  ?  I  am  she." 

He  started,  stood  up,  stared  for  a  moment 
into  the  wrinkled,  faded  face  before  him,  and, 
dropping  his  eyes,  said  not  a  word.  She 
stood  quietly  watching  him,  a  twinkle  in  her 
own  eyes,  still  bright  and  penetrating. 

"  Well,"  she  said  presently,  "  are  you  sorry 
you  came  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  now  and  smiled. 

"  No,"  he  said  slowly ;  "  but  I  was  sur- 
prised." 

"  I  told  you  she  was  dead,  but  you  would 
not  believe  me.  You  have  been  for  forty 
years  faithful  to  the  memory  of  a  —  " 

"  Don't  speak  unkindly  of  her,"  he  inter- 
rupted. "  She  is  not  dead.  When  I  die  you 
may  say  a  mass  for  her  soul  and  speak  of  her 
as  you  wish.  Until  then  I  will  protect  her." 

"  Dear  friend,  I  never  close  a  prayer  with- 
out a  thought  of  you.  When  we  meet  in 


1 86  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

paradise,  if  I  can  there  believe  myself  to  be 
as  good  and  beautiful  as  you  think  Betty,  I 
will  ask  God  to  allow  me  to  love  and  honour 
you  above  all  the  angels." 

There  was  something  very  sweet  and 
almost  pathetic  in  her  face  as  she  bade  him 
good-by,  and  there  was  also  a  suggestion  of 
a  twinkle  in  her  eyes.  He  felt  again  the 
old  restlessness  and  uncertainty  when  in  her 
presence,  but  he  would  not  recognize  the 
fact.  He  was  still  bewildered  by  the  shock 
he  had  received  when  she  first  appeared,  and 
was  really  relieved  when  she  called  Mrs.  Wil- 
son in  and  left  them  alone  together. 

"  My  aunt  is  a  wonderful  woman,"  said  she. 
"  Her  step  is  as  brisk  and  her  eye  as  clear  as 
a  girl's.  She  is  clever,  too — any  one  can  see 
that." 

A  sister  entered  and  took  them  to  a  room 
overlooking  the  fountain.  A  table  near  the 
window  was  spread  with  a  luncheon  of  milk 
and  bread  and  fruit.  He  scarcely  ate,  but 
sat  idly  gazing  over  the  lawn  beneath  him, 
or  up  the  river  to  where  the  Palisades  formed 
a  bold  headland,  whose  noble  outline  was 
softened  by  a  purple  mist.  It  was  as  sub- 
lime and  beautiful  a  picture  as  the  world  has 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  187 

to  offer.  It  lessened  his  sorrow,  but  increased 
his  melancholy.  He  sighed  and  looked  away. 

"  If  you  are  ready,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Wilson, 
"  we  will  go." 

"  But  you  only  saw  her  for  a  moment,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Won't  she  return  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  he  replied.     "  Let  us  go." 

It  had  been  but  a  moment,  and  yet,  during 
it,  he  had  seen  the  passing  of  forty  years. 
He  bent  a  little  as  he  walked  to  the  carriage. 
It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life ;  but  he  real- 
ized now,  for  the  first  time,  that  he  was  really 
old. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THESE  were  the  days  before  the  spirit  of 
Froebel  had  been  reincarnated  into  the  body 
of  the  schools.  The  world's  children  were 
still  being  driven  in  herds  along  the  beaten 
paths  of  fact,  the  dust  from  which  only 
choked  them  and  made  their  eyes  smart. 
Here  and  there,  however,  were  child-herds 
who,  prompted  as  much  by  compassion  as 
wisdom,  let  down  the  bars  or  led  their  droves 
over  the  fences  into  the  fields,  allowing  them 
to  gather  the  flowers  and  the  fruit  of  knowl- 
edge at  first  hand. 

Sister  Cordelia  was  one  of  these.  Every 
evening,  the  children,  after  their  glass  of  milk, 
went  to  the  nursery,  and,  rocking  in  their 
chairs,  put  their  babies  to  sleep,  singing  the 
songs  the  sister  had  taught  them.  Then, 
kneeling  at  their  chairs  and  facing  a  little 
image  of  the  Holy  Child,  robed  in  turquoise 
blue  with  gold  braid,  they  said  their  Hail 
Marys. 

188 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  189 

The  beauty  of  this  graceful  image,  the 
tender  innocence  of  the  thoughtful  face,  was, 
in  itself,  worthy  of  their  devotions.  Every 
moment  they  spent  looking  upon  it  with  af- 
fection and  desire  was  something  gained. 

"  And  now,"  Sister  Cordelia  would  say, 
"  we  will  finish  all  our  letters  and  get  them 
ready  to  post." 

From  every  child's  pocket  would  come  a 
pencil  and  pad  on  which  had  been  scrawled 
or  printed,  from  time  to  time  through  the  day, 
whatever  had  come  to  them,  or  had  been  sug- 
gested by  the  sister,  of  what  they  were  do- 
ing or  thinking  or  seeing,  for  the  daily 
letter  home.  They  would  make  as  nice  cop- 
ies of  these  as  they  could,  and,  addressing  and 
stamping  their  own,  drop  them  in  a  little  box 
near  the  door.  Each  child  had  her  day  to 
be  postman.  She  would  carry  the  key  of 
this  box,  and  when  the  real  postman  from  the 
city  rode  in  on  his  horse  in  the  morning,  she 
must  unlock  it  and  take  the  letters  to  him. 
In  this  way  they  were  taught  to  write. 

Hilda  suffered  terribly  at  first  because  she 
was  the  only  one  of  her  playmates  who 
could  not. 

"But,"  said   Sister  Cordelia,  "just   think, 


190  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

Hilda,  how  nice  it  will  be  for  us  all  to  teach 
you." 

The  sister  made  so  much  of  this  that  the 
children  came  to  look  upon  it  as  the  rarest 
of  their  pleasures.  Edna  was  inclined  to 
claim  it  as  her  special  privilege  at  first,  but 
the  sister  showed  her  how  selfish  this  would 
be. 

"  But,"  she  added,  "  until  she  learns,  you 
may  write  her  letters  for  her." 

So  Edna  carried  two  pads  in  her  pocket, 
and  Hilda's  need  made  her  the  most  popular 
of  all  the  children  there. 

When  the  letters  were  dropped  in  the  box, 
Sister  Cordelia  waited  for  the  last  good  night 
of  the  doting  parents  to  their  babes,  and  took 
them  off  to  bed.  They  stopped  on  the  third 
floor  and  entered  the  children's  oratory,  a 
long,  narrow  room  in  white  and  pale  blue, 
with  windows  of  glass  stained  in  light  tints. 
The  walls  were  decorated  by  vines  of  trail- 
ing arbutus  in  bloom,  exquisitely  painted  by 
some  of  the  older  girls  of  the  school,  whose 
names  were  graven  in  silver  on  a  tablet  just 
opposite  the  door.  At  one  end  was  a  white 
marble  shrine  to  the  Virgin,  where  a  slender 
sanctuary  lamp  was  always  burning,  and 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  191 

potted  plants  were  in  flower.  Here  the  chil- 
dren knelt,  if  they  desired,  and  offered  any 
special  request  or  prayer  of  their  own  they 
wished  to  make. 

Now,  as  the  weeks  passed,  there  came  a 
change  in  the  relations  of  Hilda  and  Edna. 
They  were  always  together,  sometimes  even 
wandering  a  little  way  from  the  others  to  sit 
alone  in  the  grotto  or  under  a  tree  on  the 
lawn  or  a  bench  in  a  summer-house.  Sister 
Cordelia  noticed  that  at  these  times  Edna 
would  usually  produce  the  two  pads,  and  she 
was  pleased  to  see  their  heads  close  together, 
thinking  them  busy  as  they  should  be. 

Little  by  little,  however,  Edna  began  to 
reveal  signs  of  unhappiness.  Sometimes  she 
would  jump  up  from  her  seat  abruptly  and 
walk  away,  leaving  Hilda  to  follow  her,  very 
much  perplexed  by  her  behaviour.  One  day 
Edna  left  her  in  the  grotto,  and,  hurrying 
away  into  the  woods,  threw  herself  on  the 
ground.  Hilda  followed  her  slowly,  carrying 
the  pads  she  had  thrown  from  her  angrily. 

"  Go  away!"  cried  Edna,  passionately.  "  I 
don't  want  you  to  come  near  me.  Go  away ! " 

Hilda  turned  about  with  a  cry  of  distress 
and  ran  sobbing  as  fast  as  she  could  to  the 


1 92  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

orchard  where,  hidden  in  the  long  grass,  she 
thought  she  could  lie  and  weep  unseen. 

"  Oh,  why  does  she  do  it  ? "  she  moaned. 
"  O  dear !  O  dear !  what  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  Come,  Hilda,"  said  Sister  Cordelia,  bend- 
ing over  her,  "  will  you  tell  me  what  it  is  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  it  is.  Edna  don't 
like  me  any  more." 

The  sister  helped  her  up  and  dried  her 
eyes  and  comforted  her  with  the  assurance 
that  everybody  there  loved  her  very  much. 

"  Maybe  Edna  is  sick,"  she  added.  "  Will 
you  not  cry  any  more  and  let  me  go  and 
see?" 

"  Oh,  Sister,"  said  Hilda,  anxiously,  "  please 
go  quick.  I  don't  want  her  to  be  there  all 
alone." 

The  sister  found  Edna  still  stretched  on 
the  ground. 

"  Dear  Edna,"  said  she  very  gently,  "  are 
you  unhappy  ? " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Are  you  sick  ?  "  she  asked,  really  fright- 
ened now  and  stepping  quickly  toward  her. 

"  No,"  said  Edna,  sitting  up,  for  she  did 
not  want  to  be  touched. 

"  You  have  made  Hilda  miserable." 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  193 

Edna  looked  stubbornly  upon  the  ground 
and  said  nothing. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  the  sister,  and  the 
anxiety  that  she  really  felt  trembled  in  her 
voice.  "  Don't  you  care  any  more  to  become 
a  child  of  Mary  ?  " 

Edna  did  not  move  or  speak,  but  a  look 
of  sudden  distress  and  alarm  passed  over 
her  face.  The  little  breast  began  to  pain 
her,  and  she  unconsciously  pressed  it  with  her 
hands. 

"  Sister,"  she  said  presently,  with  a  choking 
voice,  "  I  wish  I  could  be  good." 

"  Come,  then,  let  us  go  and  find  Hilda." 

All  that  afternoon  Edna  seemed  to  be  on 
the  point  of  weeping.  She  sat  quietly  among 
the  children,  but  took  no  part  in  their  play. 
For  some  days  she  had  not  entered  the  ora- 
tory, but  had  stood  gloomily  outside  while 
the  others  were  there.  This  had  caused  Sis- 
ter Cordelia  a  good  deal  of  distress,  but  she 
knew  it  was  better  not  to  question  her,  if  it 
was  possible  to  solve  this  problem  without. 

This  evening,  however,  Edna  entered  and 
went  quickly  to  the  shrine.  She  knelt  down, 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  crying  bitterly. 
The  children  looked  at  her  and  forgot  their 


194  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

own  prayers.  Hilda  began  to  cry  uncon- 
sciously. Sister  Cordelia  could  not  endure 
such  a  sight  and  do  nothing.  She  knelt 
by  Edna,  and,  putting  her  arms  about  her, 
said :  — 

"  Please  tell  me,  too.  Dear  little  girl,  won't 
you  tell  me?  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  to 
understand  what  the  Virgin  is  saying." 

"  Oh,  Sister,"  sobbed  the  child,  "  I  have 
been  angry  at  Hilda  because  she  always 
thinks  of  the  nicest  things  for  her  letters, 
and  —  O  dear  —  O  dear  —  yesterday  —  I 
could  not  help  it  —  I  sent  hers  to  my  mamma 
and  mine  to  Primrose." 

All  this  was  said  brokenly  and  in  the  keen- 
est anguish.  The  children  listened  aghast  at 
this  strange  confession.  Before  it  was  fin- 
ished, Hilda  was  on  her  feet. 

"  Oh,  Edna,"  she  wailed,  "  I  didn't  know. 
Indeed,  I  didn't.  I  will  never,  never  do  it 
again,"  and  running  to  her  friend  she  fell  into 
her  arms. 

That  night  they  received  permission  to 
sleep  in  the  same  bed.  When  they  awoke, 
it  was  to  a  warmer  and  sweeter  friendship 
than  before. 

The  letters  of  Hilda  to  Primrose,  to  Uncle 


A  PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  195 

Minot,  and  to  Uncle  Christopher  were  the 
most  important  of  the  world's  documents  to 
all  in  the  garden.  Every  evening  as  they 
assembled  on  the  porch  or  in  the  summer- 
house,  or,  as  it  grew  colder,  about  the  fire- 
place in  the  cottage,  the  day's  letter  was  read 
aloud  and  marvelled  at. 

"  Do  you  suppose  she  could  have  said 
that  ?  "  Mr.  Mott  would  ask. 

"  Of  course  she  did,"  Primrose  would  reply, 
and  Mr.  Alexander  would  suggest  that  she 
may  have  thought  it,  and  that  Sister  Cordelia 
had  helped  her  to  put  it  into  words.  Then 
Mr.  Mott  would  tell  his  story  as  Primrose 
wrote  it  down,  Mr.  Alexander  would  send  his 
love  and  wishes  for  her  happiness,  and  Prim- 
rose would  complete  the  letter  with  a  budget 
of  news  of  her  little  friends  in  house  and  gar- 
den. She  began  also  to  write  to  the  child 
of  all  she  thought  and  did  during  the  day. 
Could  these  letters  of  Primrose  and  Hilda 
some  time  be  published  with  a  key  to  them, 
such  as  they  possessed,  the  world  would  be 
kept  busy  for  a  while ;  for  could  it  read,  as 
they  read,  it  would  see  not  merely  what  was 
said,  but  all  that  a  child  and  a  woman,  like 
Hilda  and  Primrose,  think  and  feel. 


196  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

So  when  the  summer  came  and  brought 
Hilda  to  the  garden  again,  it  seemed  to 
Primrose  that  she,  too,  had  been  away  and 
was  returning  with  her.  For  the  first  time 
now,  Hilda  was  restless  and  not  altogether 
engrossed  by  her  surroundings.  She  walked 
with  Mr.  Alexander  or  went  riding  with  him 
when  he  wished.  She  still  delighted  in  the 
stories  of  her  Uncle  Christopher  and  loved 
Primrose  even  more  dearly  than  before,  but 
she  seemed  now  and  then  to  be  listening  for 
what  she  did  not  hear,  and  to  be  thinking 
of  things  far  away.  It  was  an  unconscious, 
ever  present  hunger,  not  to  be  satisfied  even 
by  the  flowers.  She  seldom  visited  her  rose 
vines,  although  they  were  now  in  bloom,  and 
never  talked  to  them.  If  she  went  by  her- 
self at  all,  it  was  just  to  walk  aimlessly  along 
the  gravel  paths  with  a  sense  of  loss  filling 
her  heart. 

"  She  misses  the  children,"  thought  Prim- 
rose. The  others  did  not  notice  it. 

But  when  Hilda  was  again  in  the  convent, 
it  was  not  the  greetings  of  her  friends  that 
set  the  little  moulting  birds  to  singing  in  her 
soul.  It  was  the  sound  of  the  chapel  organ 
as  she  heard  it  while  passing  along  the  cor- 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  197 

ridors.  It  was  the  tinkling  of  the  little  bells, 
the  deep  tones  of  the  clock,  the  mysterious 
shadows,  and,  above  all,  the  broad,  stately 
river,  stretching  far  and  far  away.  It  was 
not  the  longing  to  go  there  that  lured  her 
gaze  beyond  the  purple  headland.  She  was 
content  just  to  sit  with  Edna,  or  even  alone, 
and  look  and  feel. 

Now,  when  she  tried  to  write  to  Primrose, 
she  found  a  strange,  new  difficulty.  She 
would  sit  for  a  long  time,  her  pad  on  her  lap, 
her  pencil  in  her  hand,  trying  in  vain  to  find 
some  way  of  expressing  what  she  wished  to 
say.  She  was  obliged  to  frequently  seek 
assistance  from  Edna,  whose  imagination 
never  carried  her  too  far  from  the  familiar 
shores.  Primrose  felt  the  change  in  her 
letters,  and  it  grieved  her.  When  Hilda  was 
again  home  for  the  summer,  she  was  quieter 
than  before.  She  was  neither  so  restless  nor 
yet  so  much  interested  in  her  surroundings. 
She  would  sit  by  herself  in  apparent  listless 
idleness,  or,  curled  up  in  the  summer-house, 
now  covered  with  vines,  read  by  the  hour. 
She  found  as  great  a  pleasure  as  ever  in  help- 
ing Primrose  with  the  work,  and  it  was  then 
that  something  of  their  former  intimacy  re- 


198  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

turned.  But  Primrose  could  not  be  sure  any 
longer  of  the  child's  thoughts.  She  longed 
to  brush  away  the  veil  that  was  enveloping 
her ;  to  catch  her  in  her  arms,  and  by  a  close 
embrace  bring  her  all  back  into  her  life  again. 

One  day  this  was  accomplished  for  her. 
For  one  sweet  and  bitter  hour  the  child's 
soul  was  thrown  open  to  her  again. 

They  were  sitting  together  in  the  summer- 
house.  She  was  finishing  an  apron  that 
Hilda  had  begun.  The  child  was  reading 
near  her.  Now  and  then,  as  she  read,  a  sigh 
escaped  her.  Primrose  saw  that  her  cheeks 
were  flushed  and  heard  her  murmuring  to 
herself,  "O  dear!  O  dear!"  She  tried  to 
think  of  something  to  propose  that  would  be 
sufficient  to  take  Hilda  from  the  story.  Sud- 
denly the  book  fell  from  her  hand.  She 
leaned  back  for  a  moment  and  closed  her 
eyes. 

"  Whatever  is  it  ?  "  cried  Primrose,  hurry- 
ing to  her. 

"  Primrose,"  said  Hilda,  looking  pitifully 
into  her  face,  "  I  had  a  mamma  once  and  she 
died.  Oh,  Primrose,  do  you  think  they  put 
her  in  the  ground  ?  Did  she  suffer  and  suf- 
fer, and  was  she  very  sick  ?  " 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  199 

"  Do  you  remember  your  mamma  ?  "  asked 
Primrose,  gently  sitting  beside  her  and  push- 
ing the  book  under  the  bench  with  her 
foot. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Primrose.  She  was  more  beau- 
tiful than  Edna's  mamma  —  more  beautiful 
than  any  one  ever  was.  She  told  me  she  was 
going  away,  just  like  Mary's  mother  told  her 
in  the  story.  She  didn't  go  away,  Primrose, 
she  died ;  and  when  I  wasn't  there,  they  put 
her  in  the  ground  and  came  away,  and  she  is 
dead." 

Hilda  leaned  against  Primrose  and  wept 
so  long  and  bitterly  that  Primrose  became 
frightened. 

"  Hilda,  Hilda,"  she  said  at  last,  "  you  must 
not  cry  so.  I  can't  carry  you,  child,  and  I 
can't  leave  you.  I  will  have  to  call  your 
Uncle  Christopher." 

"  No  —  no  —  don't  —  don't  —  do  —  it." 

At  that  moment  Mr.  Alexander  came 
through  the  opening  in  the  hedge  of  the 
enclosure. 

"  Your  Uncle  Minot  is  coming,"  said  Prim- 
rose. 

Hilda  was  still  for  a  moment,  but  she  could 
not  entirely  control  her  sobs. 


200  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  Don't  let  him  see,"  she  whispered. 

Primrose  motioned  him  to  go  back.  He 
nodded  and  smiled  and  went  away,  thinking 
there  was  some  little  trouble  that  would  be 
forgotten  in  a  moment. 

He  saw  that  Hilda  was  passing  from  child- 
hood to  girlhood,  and  was  satisfied  with  her. 
She  seemed  in  his  eyes  to  be  only  a  little 
taller  than  before.  She  was  the  same  Hilda, 
—  affectionate,  light-hearted,  and  happy.  He 
sometimes  heard  her  singing  as  she  worked. 
He  saw  her  sitting  contentedly  with  her  book, 
and  wondered  at  the  rapidity  of  her  progress. 
He  marvelled  at  all  she  said,  and  took  his 
greatest  delight  in  gratifying  her  desires. 
She  liked  pretty  clothes  and  such  story  books 
as  she  could  read.  These  seemed  to  him  to 
be  all  that  she  wished  for,  and  he  gave  them 
to  her  with  a  lavish  hand. 

"  Beautiful  women  are  the  world's  finest 
ornaments,"  he  would  say  to  himself.  "  She 
is  a  happy  child  of  nature,  and  she  shall  deck 
herself  as  gayly  as  the  flowers." 

He  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  she 
would  sit  beside  him,  beautiful  and  happy, 
and  delight  with  him  in  his  books,  or  sing  to 
him,  or  tell  him  her  dreams  and  fancies.  She 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  20 1 

should  then  have  no  vain  longings  if  he  could 
realize  them  for  her. 

He  would  sit  in  this  manner  and  muse  in 
his  room  or  in  the  club,  on  the  cottage  porch, 
and,  all  the  long  winter  evenings,  by  the 
cheery  fireplace  with  Primrose  and  his  old 
friend,  Mott.  He  became  more  and  more 
unmindful  of  their  presence  as  the  image  of 
Hilda,  the  maiden,  became  more  real.  To 
be  sure,  he  sometimes  called  her  Betty  in  his 
silent  talks.  But  that  did  not  matter.  This 
being  of  his  dreams,  by  either  name,  pos- 
sessed only  the  virtues  and  beauty  of  both. 

When  Hilda,  now  in  her  sixth  year  of 
school,  wrote  to  ask  him  if  she  could  take 
her  first  communion,  he  replied :  — 

"  Do  what  you  wish,  my  dear.  I  shall 
never  deny  you  anything  but  the  privilege 
of  grief.  That  is  something  we  often  desire, 
but  can  do  without.  Be  happy.  Have  no 
lover  but  your  uncle,  and  I  will  agree  to 
anything  you  wish.  Should  you  become  a 
nun,  I  will  have  you  assigned  by  the  arch- 
bishop to  read  to  me,  and  we  will  build  a 
little  convent  for  just  ourselves  and  Prim- 
rose. Your  Uncle  Christopher  shall  be  our 
gardener,  which,  I  suppose,  will  compel  us 
to  build  our  convent  here." 


CHAPTER  X 

YEAR  by  year  the  shadow  of  the  sun-dial 
on  the  convent  lawn  had  described  a  circle 
of  the  hours,  and  the  great  bell  in  the  clock 
tower  had  announced  their  coming. 

The  little  girls  of  the  nursery  a  few  years 
before  were  the  big  girls  now.  That  was  all. 
Hilda  and  Edna  and  Polly  had  finished  their 
last  year  in  the  convent.  The  next  morning 
they  would  pack  their  trunks.  In  the  even- 
ing they  would  drive  away.  They  were  now 
sitting  for  the  last  time  in  the  summer-house, 
taking  their  last  look  on  the  river  and  lawn. 
Here  they  had  conned  their  lessons  and 
read  alpud  together,  from  Mother  Goose  and 
Hans  Andersen  to  Marcus  Aurelius  and 
Byron  and  Shelley.  Here  they  had  talked 
of  what  they  read  from  the  "  O  mys ! "  and 
"  O  dears ! "  to  the  later  "  How  beautiful ! " 
"  Is  that  so  ?  "  and  "  I  think."  For  them,  as 
for  us  all,  the  beautiful  things  of  their  books 
were  those  scenes  in  which  moved  beings 
they  could  love ;  or  were  those  thoughts  that 

202 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  203 

fall  like  sunshine  into  shadowy  places,  or 
that  come  reaching  toward  us  like  the  path 
of  moonlight  across  the  dark  waters,  or, 
appearing  like  stars,  stir  the  wings  of  the 
soul  for  flight.  They  questioned,  as  do  we 
all,  the  things  that  would  imprison  them. 
They  thought,  and  thought,  in  the  endeavour 
to  remain  free  and  to  reconcile  what  they 
were  told  was  good  with  what  they  felt  to  be 
beautiful.  And  because,  in  this,  the  world 
is  like  them  —  its  virtues  are  becoming  more 
divine. 

"  Girls,"  said  Polly,  "  let's  not  go  away. 
We  may  not  see  each  other  for  years  —  per- 
haps never.  I  will  stay  here  for  a  week,  if 
you  will." 

"  That  would  be  lovely,"  said  Edna;  "just 
lovely." 

"  We  will  do  it,"  said  Hilda,  laughing  and 
putting  her  hand  to  her  eyes.  "  I  shall  not 
have  to  cry  now  for  a  week  at  least." 

"  There  will  be  no  school,"  said  Polly. 
"  Just  think  of  being  here  a  whole  week  with 
nothing  we  must  do." 

"  We  can  finish  our  story  now,"  said  Hilda, 
"and  perhaps  find  the  right  conclusion  for 
that  wonderful  poem  of  ours." 


204  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  I  wish  we  could,"  said  Edna. 

"  Well,  I  don't,"  Polly  cried  gayly.  "  I  am 
tired  of  waiting  in  silent  awe  while  Hilda 
sits  mooning  at  the  'purple  headland/  and 
you  nibble  your  pencil  and  twist  your  hair 
and  grow  red  in  the  face.  When  you  take 
to  literature  again,  I  shall  devote  myself  to 
Father  L'Amora." 

"  You're  a  mean  thing !  "  said  Hilda. 

"  Well,"  retorted  Polly,  "  I  will  take  Father 
Richter,  then,  and  give  you  Father  L'Amora." 

"You  know  I  didn't  mean  that.  If  you 
would  use  your  imagination,  Polly,  to  some 
purpose,  you  could  help  finish  the  poem*" 

"  Well,"  said  Polly,  with  a  grave  air,  "  as  I 
understand  it,  your  maiden  is  being  borne 
in  a  boat  up  the  Hudson  on  a  misty  moon- 
light night.  A  phantom  stands  silently  in 
the  bow.  The  headland  is  just  before  them, 
and  the  maiden  knows  that  some  strange 
and  wonderful  thing  will  happen  as  soon  as 
they  have  passed  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hilda,  eagerly.  "  That  is  all 
just  as*  clear  as  it  can  be  to  me.  But  I 
can't  see  beyond  the  headland.  Sometimes 
it  seems  that  there  is  a  city  there,  just  rising 
out  of  the  water  and  formed  of  the  blue  mist 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  205 

and  white  clouds;  and  then  I  think  that 
instead  of  the  city  there  are  beautiful  green 
islands,  where  the  fairies  live  and  the  birds 
stay  in  winter,  for  it  is  always  spring  on 
these  islands,  and  everything  that  grows  has 
a  blossom  and  can  sing.  But  I  never  really 
know  what  is  there." 

"  Why  don't  you  row  up  and  see  ? "  asked 
Polly.  "  You  could  do  it  in  a  week  if  the 
wind  blew  north." 

"  Polly,"  said  Edna,  "  if  those  sisters  were 
not  coming  this  way  I  would  throw  my  book 
at  you." 

Hilda,  however,  scarcely  heard.  She 
smiled  and  said,  "  Now,  Polly,  you're  a 
goose,"  but  her  eyes  kept  their  wistful  look, 
and  the  smile  only  made  the  melancholy  of 
the  young  face  more  mature  and  tender. 

"  Well,"  said  Polly,  "  tell  me  this,  then,  and 
I  will  help  you,  really.  Who  is  the 
phantom  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  said  Hilda.  "  I 
wish  I  did." 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  what  it  is.  I  know  that 
well  enough." 

"  You  do  ? "  asked  Hilda  in  surprise,  and 
looking  at  her  eagerly.  "  What  is  it  ?  " 


206  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  It's  a  boy,"  said  Polly,  with  an  emphatic 
nod. 

Hilda  looked  quickly  away,  confused. 

"  Why,  Hilda,  how  you  blush,"  said  Edna. 
"  Is  it  really  so  ?  Did  you  meet  one,  too, 
last  summer  ? " 

"  Oh,  Edna,"  exclaimed  Polly,  "  and  you 
never  told  me  !  Tell  me  about  him  now,  and 
I'll  tell  you  about  mine." 

"Hilda's  first,"  said  Edna.  "It  started 
with  her." 

"Yes,  Hilda,  own  up  —  who  is  the  phan- 
tom ? " 

"  You  are  wrong,  Polly.  I  don't  know 
any  boys." 

"  What  a  pity !  " 

"  I  have  scarcely  ever  spoken  to  one  in  my 
life  except  —  " 

"  Except  who  ?  " 

"  One  I  played  with  a  long  time  ago  —  ten 
years." 

She  could  not  at  that  moment  recall  his 
name.  It  had  been  years  since  she  had 
pronounced  it. 

"  My  children,"  said  Mother  Pelagia,  who 
had  come  upon  them  unawares,  "are  you 
saying  good-by  to  the  river?  I  shall  be 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  207 

sorry  to  see  you  go.  Every  year  my  blos- 
soms blow  away  and  I  see  little  of  the  fruit, 
for  it  ripens  in  other  hands.  I  hope  you 
will  come  back  here  now  and  then  and  not 
grow  up  to  forget  us." 

"  But,  Mother,"  said  Polly,  "  we  would  like 
to  stay  here  a  week  longer,  if  we  may." 

"  Dear  Mother  Pelagia,"  said  Hilda,  going 
to  her  and  taking  her  hand,  "  may  we  stay  ? 
It  will  be  our  last  time  together,  perhaps." 

"  You  know,  my  dear,  that  I  could  refuse 
you  nothing,  even  if  I  wished  to.  I  shall, 
however,  be  very  happy  to  have  you  here." 

She  smiled  on  the  three  and  turned  away. 

"  Sister  Cordelia,"  said  she,  as  they  con- 
tinued their  walk,  "  I  have  loved  those  girls 
more  than  any  of  the  others.  Perhaps  I 
should  not  have  done  that,  and  I  hope  no 
one  has  seen  it  but  myself."  She  added  a 
moment  later,  as  if  it  were  an  after-thought, 
"  and  our  Lord." 

"  He  would  not  mind,"  said  Sister  Cor- 
delia, softly.  "  He  alone  is  able  to  love 
every  one." 

"  He  may  love  us  all,"  replied  the  mother, 
smiling ;  "  but  I  fancy  there  are  those  whom 
even  He  cannot  admire." 


208  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

She  looked  toward  a  little  white  house 
among  the  trees,  the  home  of  the  chaplain, 
Father  Richter.  Sister  Cordelia  followed 
her  glance  and  smiled  also,  for  she  was  the 
one  person  in  the  world  with  whom  Mother 
Pelagia  was  not  always  politic. 

They  saw  Father  Richter  on  the  porch, 
frowning  over  a  prayer-book. 

"  There  he  sits,"  said  the  mother,  "  like  a 
crow  in  a  nest  more  befitting  a  wren.  He 
certainly  knows  the  catechism,  but  I  wish  we 
had  Father  L'Amora  for  our  chaplain,  for  he 
knows  our  Lord  as  well." 

"Oh,  I  wish  that  could  be.  Why  don't 
you  speak  to  the  Archbishop  ?  " 

"  I  am  getting  too  old  for  such  adven- 
tures," said  the  mother,  a  little  sorrowfully 
and  then  with  a  quaint  smile,  "  I  will  soon 
be  gone  and  the  world  must  learn  to  get 
along  without  me." 

The  long  shadows  were  falling  across  the 
lawn.  The  bell  in  the  tower  sounded  its 
melodious  summons  over  woods  and  groves 
and  far  along  the  paths,  calling  the  girls  and 
the  sisters  to  vespers.  A  little  procession  of 
nuns  came,  two  by  two,  along  the  Way  of  the 
Holy  Angels,  saying  their  rosaries.  The 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  209 

mother  and  Sister  Cordelia,  as  they  re- 
turned, saw  the  old  Monseignor  Ambrose 
hurrying  along  the  Cardinal's  Walk.  He  had 
been  a  moment  before  placidly  listening  to 
the  birds  and  examining  the  bushes  as  he 
passed  them  in  his  stroll.  Now  there  was 
an  eager  expression  on  his  face.  The  kind 
of  anxiety  shone  there,  however,  that  illumi- 
nates and  makes  beautiful.  He  quickened 
his  steps,  that  he  might  not  miss  the  first 
notes  of  the  organ.  Seeing  the  sisters,  he 
removed  his  black  skull  cap  and  allowed 
them  to  precede  him.  Now,  as  he  followed 
slowly,  a  little  behind  them,  his  countenance 
became  tranquil.  He  was  in  a  beautiful 
chapel  of  his  own  building,  listening  to  the 
melodies  of  ninety  years. 

"  How  can  Father  Richter  live  in  the  same 
house  with  the  monseignor,"  asked  Sister 
Cordelia,  "  and  remain  so  austere  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  I  once  heard  the  father 
say  to  him,  '  Some  of  these  young  girls  seem 
to  have  nothing  to  confess.  What  can  I 
do?'  —  'If  I  were  you,'  came  the  reply,  *  I 
would  pray  for  a  continuance  of  their  inno- 
cence and  peace.'  — '  In  one  of  them  espe- 
cially,' continued  the  father,  as  if  the  other 


210  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

had  not  spoken,  *  I  have  never  been  able  to 
awaken  the  consciousness  of  sin.'  —  'Why 
not  leave  that  to  the  devil  ? '  returned  the 
monseignor. 

"  I  understand  there  has  been  some  es- 
trangement between  them  since." 

The  especial  one  to  whom  Father  Richter 
had  referred  was  Polly.  She  had  learned 
her  catechism  early  and  had  been  always 
ready  to  rattle  through  it,  were  the  questions 
asked  in  order.  She  was  willing  enough  to 
attend  mass  and  confession.  She  confessed 
if  she  could  think  of  anything  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  or  failed  to  do  so  with  equal 
good  grace.  When  she  went  into  retreat, 
she  would  try  to  think  of  holy  things.  She 
would  come  out  with  a  headache  and  say, — 

"  It  is  like  attempting  for  three  days  to 
keep  your  mind's  eye  on  a  dot." 

Upon  Edna  the  forms  and  symbols  of  the 
church  made  a  deeper  impression.  She  had 
always  felt  a  wondering  adoration  for  the  Vir- 
gin and  for  Our  Lady  of  Lourdes.  She  had 
offered  a  real  prayer  every  night  at  the  shrine 
in  the  oratory  ever  since  the  one  dark  time 
when  she  had  remained  away.  She  never 
romped  in  the  grotto,  nor  on  the  island 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  211 

around  it,  for  fear  of  disturbing  the  peace  of 
the  sweet-faced  image  within.  There  were 
times  when  she  grieved  in  secret  over  her 
depravity,  and  other  times  when  she  hinted 
to  Hilda  of  the  fears  that  filled  her  soul. 

Hilda  was  neither  altogether  indifferent, 
nor  yet  very  deeply  disturbed  by  such  fears. 
She  was  distressed  by  her  failure  to  find  a 
confession  ready  when  the  time  came,  simply 
because  she  felt  that  the  stern  father  expected 
one  from  her.  Now  and  then  the  lines  of 
the  catechism  would  rise  like  ghosts  before 
her,  but  like  ghosts  they  were  vague  and 
unintelligible  and  did  not  remain.  When 
she  was  a  child,  the  questions  of  the  father 
had  sometimes  frightened  her  as  she  knelt  in 
the  dark  confessional,  listening  to  the  solemn 
voice  of  one  unseen.  She  never  quite  out- 
grew this  feeling,  and  still  strove  when  she 
was  there  to  find  such  answers  as  would  be 
acceptable  to  him.  This  had  some  effect 
uptm  her,  but  not  a  profound  one.  Only 
now  and  then,  when  a  sudden  wave  of  long- 
ing or  of  causeless  melancholy  swept  through 
her  soul,  would  she  wonder  if  she  was  indeed 
sinful  and  approaching  unconsciously  the 
dark  waters  waiting  to  ingulf  her. 


212  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

In  the  dim  light  of  the  chapel  she  would 
sometimes  listen  to  the  organ  and  forget  it 
in  a  tender,  half-unconscious  prayer.  She 
did  not  know  what  she  felt  nor  what  she 
wanted. 

Sometimes  she  would  sit  on  the  lawn  alone 
until  the  dark  fell  about  her,  watching  the 
far-away  light,  above  the  city,  down  the 
river,  half  remembering,  half  dreaming,  until, 
awaking  with  a  start,  she  would  find  her 
cheeks  wet  with  tears.  On  all  these  things 
she  was  silent.  She  could  listen  to  Edna 
and  feel  with  her ;  but  of  her  own  misgivings 
and  memories  she  never  consciously  spoke. 

The  academy  had  been  dismissed.  A  few 
of  the  girls  had  remained.  Sisters  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  were  returning  to  the  con- 
vent for  the  summer.  Now  came  long  re- 
treats, seasons  of  meditation,  frequent  and 
solemn  services. 

There  were  still  a  few  of  the  sisters,  not  so 
withdrawn  from  all  earthly  communion,  with 
whom  the  girls  could  walk  and  talk  when 
they  wished. 

Among  these  were  the  two  whom  they 
most  loved,  —  Sister  Cordelia,  their  former 
angel  of  the  nursery,  but  now  the  mother's 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  213 

assistant,  and  Sister  Melita,  who  gave  them 
lessons  on  the  harp. 

A  few  miles  from  the  convent  was  a  col- 
lege and  monastery.  From  here  came  the 
priests  who  assisted  in  the  special  services 
of  this  season.  But  of  all  those  who  came, 
the  most  popular  was  Father  L'Amora,  the 
poet.  He  was  now  a  little  past  forty,  but  he 
was  one  of  those,  like  the  monseignor,  whose 
years  are  not  recorded.  Handsome,  keen, 
and  gentle,  he  was  profoundly  loved  by 
every  one,  from  the  archbishop,  who  al- 
lowed him  many  liberties  which  he  whim- 
sically called  poetic  licenses,  to  the  simple 
old  sisters  who  only  appeared,  when  the  sun 
was  warm,  to  bask  and  doze  in  a  little  garden 
for  their  own  use.  He  would  often  sit  here 
with  them  and  read  from  a  prayer-book  in 
his  most  soothing  voice.  When  they  slept, 
he  would  bring  a  copy  of  Shelley  or  of  Burns 
or  even  a  romance,  such  as  "  Don  Quixote  "  or 
"  Carmen,"  from  his  cassock  and  make  the 
shift  without  a  break  to  disturb  them. 

When  he  was  seen  entering  the  grounds, 
the  message  flew  from  lip  to  lip,  and  he  was 
surrounded  by  the  girls  who  ran  to  meet 
him.  His  supply  of  stories  never  waned. 


214  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

He  would  sit  in  the  grove  for  an  afternoon 
and  discuss  with  them  the  sayings  of  the 
philosophers,  the  lives  of  the  famous  or  the 
beautiful,  or  delve  with  them  into  the  history 
of  nations.  In  the  evening,  he  would  sit 
with  them  on  the  lawn  and  tell  them  stories 
or  sing  them  old  ballads.  These  songs  and 
stories  were  so  good  that  Father  Richter  dis- 
approved of  them.  On  one  occasion,  he  had 
complained  to  the  archbishop  after  notifying 
L'Amora  of  his  purpose. 

"  He  recounts  to  our  young  ladies,"  wrote 
the  father,  "alluring  romances  of  earthly 
love,  and  I  can  see  by  their  flushed  faces  as 
they  listen  that  their  sinful  hearts  are  in- 
flamed." 

This  letter  brought  an  invitation  to  L'Am- 
ora to  meet  the  archbishop  at  the  convent. 

"  I  am  coming,"  wrote  his  reverence,  "to 
hear  one  of  your  stories,  and  I  hope,  as  the 
ride  is  quite  long,  that  you  will  find  some- 
thing alluring  for  the  occasion." 

Something  had  prevented  the  coming  of 
the  archbishop  at  that  time,  but  now  he 
made  a  visitation  to  the  convent  and  sent 
word  to  L'Amora. 

No   one,  of  course,  but  the   three   most 


A  PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  215 

interested,  knew  anything  of  the  complaint 
or  of  the  archbishop's  reply. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  as  he  took  Father  Rich- 
ter's  arm,  and  walked  from  among  the  trees 
toward  the  seats  arranged  for  the  little  com- 
pany on  the  lawn,  "we  will  listen  and  decide." 

u  How  the  leaves  shine  in  the  moonlight," 
murmured  Monseignor  Ambrose,  who  walked 
at  the  bishop's  left. 

"Ambrose,"  asked  his  reverence,  "how  do 
you  find  these  romances  of  L'Amora  ? " 

"Very  pleasing,"  he  replied,  innocent  of 
the  frown  on  Father  Richter's  face. 

"  Father  Richter,"  asked  the  bishop,  anx- 
iously, "  are  you  afraid  our  young  brother 
will  modify  his  story  on  my  account  ? " 

"  Understanding,  as  he  does,"  came  the 
grave  reply,  "  that  it  is  to  be  told  as  a  trial 
before  your  reverence,  he  will  not.  He  is 
an  honourable  brother." 

His  reverence  looked  relieved. 


CHAPTER   XI 

"OH,  girls,"  cried  Hilda,  as  they  met  in 
the  corridor  after  vespers,  "  Father  L'Amora 
is  to  tell  a  story  on  the  lawn,  and  the  arch- 
bishop is  to  be  there.  Sister  Melita  just  told 
me.  She  has  sent  for  the  gardener  to  carry 
her  harp  outside." 

"  I  am  sorry  the  bishop  is  here,"  pouted 
Polly,  "for  now  I  can't  hold  Father  L'Amora's 
hand." 

"  Why,"  said  Hilda,  "  have  you  an  engage- 
ment with  the  bishop  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens,  girls,"  said  Edna,  "  some 
one  will  hear  us !  Let's  dress." 

"  I  wish  we  had  our  ball  gowns  here,"  said 
Polly.  "  You  and  Edna  have  such  beautiful 
shoulders  I  just  love  to  look  at  them.  We 
might  cut  our  muslins  low  for  to-night. 
Shall  I  get  the  shears?" 

As  the  little  company  assembled,  the  three 
girls  came  hand  in  hand  down  the  walk,  out 
from  the  shadows  of  the  convent  and  the 

216 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  217 

trees  and  across  the  lawn  in  the  moonlight, 
like  three  rosy-cheeked  ghosts.  They  seated 
themselves  on  the  ground  by  Father  L'Am- 
ora.  Sister  Melita  touched  the  strings  of  the 
harp.  The  girls  whispered  together  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  to  Sister  Cordelia,  and  run- 
ning to  a  syringa  bush  near  by,  picked 
enough  of  the  flowering  stems  for  two 
wreaths,  one  of  which  they  placed  on  the 
head  of  Father  L'Amora.  They  removed 
the  black  bonnet,  and  with  the  other  crowned 
Sister  Melita. 

"  How  young  she  looks,"  they  whispered, 
"  and  how  sweet !  " 

Now  the  harp  and  the  fountain  and  the 
breeze  formed  a  trio.  When  it  ceased, 
Father  L'Amora  said :  — 

"  The  story  I  will  tell  you  was  written  by 
me  a  long  time  ago  when  I  was  curate  at  the 
Church  of  Our  Lady,  in  a  little  village  on  the 
Maumee.  I  can  vouch  for  the  truth  of  this 
tale  because  I  used  to  sit  in  the  twilight  on 
the  banks  of  the  river,  and,  while  I  could  see 
them  distinctly  from  where  I  sat,  I  never  got 
close  enough  to  the  people  or  happenings  I 
describe  to  discredit  them.  I  have  memo- 
rized portions  of  this  story,  and  will  trust  to 


2l8  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

these  young  ladies,  as  I  have  often  before,  to 
help  me  safely  over  the  spaces  in  between. 
You  will  see,  your  reverence,  how  their  eyes 
become  like  stars  to  guide  me  if  I  stumble." 
Polly  patted  his  hand.  The  bishop  smiled 
benignly,  and  Father  L'Amora  began  his 

story. 

*  #  *  *  *  * 

Little  Pierre  was  the  adopted  son  of  an 
old  fisherman,  who,  with  his  pretty  young 
wife,  lived  on  an  island,  as  fair  a  farm  of  a 
hundred  acres  as  the  eye  of  a  contented  pro- 
prietor ever  found  delight  in.  It  belonged 
to  Jean  Pilliod,  who,  because  the  father  of 
Pierre  was  a  countryman,  had  allowed  him 
to  take  possession  of  a  sheltered  corner. 
Pierre  Prevost,  the  elder,  wept  at  the  gen- 
erosity of  his  benefactor,  and  his  young  wife 
kissed  the  rough  and  wrinkled  hands  of  Jean 
Pilliod.  But  Jean  Pilliod  was  very  old  and 
his  hair  was  so  white  that  even  Pierre  Pre- 
vost, who  was  past  sixty,  looked  young  beside 
him. 

The  old  fisherman  and  his  pretty  wife  and 
little  Pierre  worked  very  hard  until  a  cabin 
was  built  near  a  clump  of  willow  trees  close 
by  the  water.  Then  Jean  Pilliod  gave  them 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  219 

a  reel,  and  two  good  nets,  and  lumber  for  a 
broad  fishing-boat  But  even  after  all  this 
generosity,  it  went  very  hard  with  the  little 
family. 

Often  during  the  day  the  pretty  wife  of 
the  old  fisherman  would  stand  in  the  door- 
way of  the  cabin  and  look  wistfully  toward 
the  distant  city,  wishing  in  her  vain  little 
heart  for  a  palace  and  a  park. 

"  If  I  could  have  forty  brocaded  gowns 
every  morning  to  choose  from,"  she  would 
say,  "  and  could  drive  out  in  a  mahogany 
brougham  with  a  coachman  in  a  green  velvet 
coat  and  white  breeches,  I  would  look  very 
charming." 

Then  she  would  shift  her  apron  so  as  to 
conceal  the  soiled  places  in  her  faded  ging- 
ham, and  return  to  her  housework. 

Pierre  Prevost  was  a  patient-looking  old 
fisherman,  and  you  would  never  have  sus- 
pected that  many  curious  dreams  kept  him 
company.  He  would  often  also  look  away 
toward  the  distant  city,  the  steeples  and  tall 
buildings  of  which  could  just  be  discerned 
down  the  river,  and  in  his  heart  he  would 
say:  — 

"  If  only  I  could  once  catch  a  netful  of 


220  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

golden  fish,  with  eyes  of  opal  and  diamond- 
studded  gills,  I  would  sit  every  morning,  in  a 
purple  dressing-gown  and  morocco  slippers, 
with  nothing  in  the  world  to  think  of  but 
how  to  pass  a  pleasant  day." 

He  would  sometimes  put  a  wishbone  or  a 
buckeye  into  the  net  before  casting  it,  and 
if  the  load  was  heavy  when  he  began  to  pull 
it  in,  his  hands  would  tremble  and  his  eyes 
pop  out  like  the  eyes  of  a  mullet  head.  For 
all  his  hoping,  however,  and  in  spite  of  the 
charms  he  used,  there  was  never  a  golden 
fish  for  his  catching. 

But  little  Pierre  was  the  most  unfortunate 
of  the  three,  for  he  possessed  the  most  sensi- 
tive and  tender  heart.  He  seldom  had  any 
time  for  play,  and  when  he  had,  there  was  no 
one  to  play  with  him.  The  children  of  the 
neighbouring  villages  laughed  at  his  shabby 
clothes,  for  it  was  only  a  rough  and  bullying 
disposition  that  could  pass  mustej  with  them 
in  rags.  So  little  Pierre  wandered  by  him- 
self when  not  helping  his  mother  with  the 
housework  or  his  father  with  the  fishing.  He, 
too,  had  his  dreams  of  the  city,  but  they  were 
gentle  and  timid  dreams,  for  which  he  had 
no  words.  All  that  he  ever  said  as  he  looked 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  221 

toward  the  distant  steeples  was,  "  If  only  I 
might  have  her  for  a  playfellow,"  and  this 
singular  wish  he  repeated  over  and  over  as 
a  good  little  Catholic  says  his  prayers. 

Now  little  Pierre  was  thinking,  every  time 
he  made  this  wish,  of  a  little  girl  in  a  sky- 
blue  silk  dress  and  bonnet,  who  had  waved  a 
dainty  white  hand  at  him  from  the  steamer 
once  when  it  passed  close  to  his  father's  flat 
fishing-boat.  He  had  only  stared  at  her 
stupidly  at  the  time,  but  it  was  not  from 
stupidity.  At  first  he  did  not  move,  for 
astonishment,  and  then  he  could  not,  for 
despair,  as  the  great  monster  with  the  splash- 
ing wheels  bore  the  beautiful  princess  away. 
As  the  days  passed,  he  only  remembered  her 
the  better.  Often,  after  that,  the  passengers 
of  this  pleasure  steamer  saw  a  very  ragged 
boy  looking  eagerly  up  at  them  from  a  flat 
fishing-boat. 

Old  Pierre,  too,  found  an  interest  in  the 
passing  steamer.  He  would  smile  and  nod 
in  the  most  friendly  fashion  to  whomever 
might  be  looking  over  the  side.  The  fact 
was,  that  old  Pierre  had  for  so  long  been  in- 
tending to  purchase  the  steamer  and  sit  in 
the  pilot-house  with  his  purple  dressing-gown 


222  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

on,  when  he  should  catch  a  netful  of  golden 
fish,  that  he  had  grown  to  look  upon  it  as 
already  his,  and  the  people  in  it  as  his  guests. 
Now,  the  pretty  wife  of  old  Pierre  Prevost 
was  so  very  pretty  that  whenever  she  went 
into  the  village  the  young  men  stood  in  long 
rows  to  watch  her  pass,  and  even  the  old  men 
and  women,  too,  turned  to  look  at  her;  and 
she  was  so  very  young  that  all  this  admiration 
made  her  cheeks  burn  with  pleasure,  because 
she  knew  that  she  was  pretty,  and  with  shame 
because  she  had  nothing  but  an  old  ging- 
ham dress  to  wear.  She  was,  indeed,  only 
a  pretty,  young,  and  foolish  little  wife  of  an 
old  fisherman.  And  the  fame  of  her  beauty 
and  her  youth  reached  even  farther  than  the 
villages.  Now  and  then  young  men  driving 
out  from  the  city  along  the  river  road  would 
stop  opposite  the  island  and  point  to  the 
cabin  by  the  willows.  Sometimes  a  jovial 
party,  which  had  partaken  a  little  freely  of 
Mother  Peppercorn's  wine,  would  pass  by 
singing:  — 

"  There's  a  princess  in  the  cabin, 

Frying  fish  for  old  Pierre ; 
Pretty  princess,  dressed  in  gingham, 
What  misfortune  brought  you  there  ?  " 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  223 

On  more  than  one  occasion  while  the  old 
fisherman  was  away  casting  his  charmed 
nets  for  golden  shoals,  some  of  these  bold 
fellows  found  their  way  across  the  island  to 
the  cabin ;  but  those  who  came  for  mischief 
went  away  to  remember  in  silence  the  dainty 
little  woman  in  a  gingham  gown  who  had 
received  them  with  the  innocent  welcome 
of  a  child  and  the  grace  of  a  real  prin- 
cess. But  one  day  as  she  was  standing  in 
the  doorway,  looking  wistfully  away  toward 
the  city,  she  heard  a  musical  voice  by  her 
side,  and,  turning,  she  saw  such  a  handsome 
youth,  so  richly  dressed,  and  with  such  a 
fascinating  air,  that  her  cheeks  were  covered 
with  blushes,  and  her  heart  was  filled  with 
a  strange  mingling  of  delight  and  fear. 

"  I  think  you  must  have  been  wishing  for 
something,"  said  the  youth,  with  a  merry 
smile.  "  I  saw  it  in  your  eyes ;  but  your 
eyes,  I  am  afraid,  speak  only  French,  for  I 
could  not  understand  them." 

"  I  was  wishing,"  she  answered,  looking 
into  the  face  of  the  youth  with  an  irresisti- 
ble frankness,  "  that  I  might  have  forty 
brocaded  gowns  every  morning  to  choose 
from,  and  a  mahogany  brougham  with  a 


224  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

coachman  in  a  green  velvet  coat  and  white 
breeches."  She  perched  her  head  to  one 
side  and  looked  at  him  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Would  I  not  be  very  charming  then  ?  " 

"  Now  that,"  replied  the  youth,  more  seri- 
ously, but  smiling  still,  "  is  a  strange  wish 
for  the  wife  of  old  Pierre  Prevost,  the 
fisherman." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  assented  in  confusion ;  "  it 
is  all  very  strange." 

"  Now  tell  me,"  said  the  youth,  persistently, 
"  do  you  love  the  old  fisherman,  or  is  it  true, 
as  I  have  heard,  that  you  are  a  princess 
under  a  spell,  and  that  Pierre  Prevost  is 
your  ogre  ? " 

Again  her  cheeks  dimpled  with  laughter 
because  the  gentle  dreamer,  her  old  Pierre 
Prevost,  had  been  thought  an  ogre. 

"  Why,  I  can  hardly  remember  when  he 
was  not  my  husband."  She  tried  to  think. 
"No,  I  cannot  remember — it  was  a  long 
time  ago,  in  France." 

"  But  you,"  said  the  youth,  "  cannot  be 
more  than  sixteen,  and  little  Pierre  is  ten, 
at  the  least;  now  your  good  man  is  sixty 
or  more,  and  you  cannot  remember  when 
you  married  him !  It  is,  indeed,  very  mys- 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  225 

terious,  and  I  more  than  half  believe  it  is 
all  the  work  of  witchcraft." 

While  the  wife  of  the  old  fisherman  was 
still  laughing  at  the  youth's  bewilderment, 
as  a  little  girl  might  make  merry  at  a  tor- 
mented playfellow,  old  Jean  Pilliod  came 
suddenly  between  them.  He  turned  his 
head  with  its  heavy  covering  of  white  hair 
from  side  to  side  slowly,  looking  now  at 
one  and  now  at  the  other,  and  his  bright 
little  eyes  sparkled  like  stars  beneath  his 
heavy  white  brow.  Taking  the  youth  away 
with  him,  he  pointed  to  the  rich  fields  of 
his  island  farm  and  said :  — 

"You  have  travelled  over  the  world,  my 
son,  and  have  seen  better  land  than  this,'* 
but  there  was  that  in  his  eyes  to  contradict 
his  own  words.  The  youth  replied,  — 

"  My  father,  I  have  been  in  most  coun- 
tries and  have  seen  many  good  fields  and 
many  beautiful  women;  I  have  talked  with 
wise  men,  also ;  but  with  these  three  things 
this  island  of  yours  is  blessed  beyond  all 
other  places." 

"  The  wheat  grows  well  here,  it  is  true,  and 
now  that  we  are  at  the  door  of  my  cellar,  you 
shall  judge  of  the  wine  for  yourself." 


226  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

The  youth  sighed. 

The  old  man  turned  to  him  and  said,  — 

"  Richard,  I  have  known  you  since  you 
came  into  the  world;  and  long  before  that 
time  your  father,  who  was  a  just  man,  tasted 
of  the  very  juice  you  shall  drink  this  day." 
He  took  the  youth  gently  by  the  arm  and 
added :  "  And  if  I  live  I  shall  some  day  say 
as  much  to  a  son  of  yours.  Come,  when  we 
are  young  every  tree  is  full  of  sweet  fruit ;  but 
as  we  grow  older  we  learn  to  avoid  that  which 
is  forbidden." 

They  entered  the  cellar,  and  Jean  Pilliod, 
pointing  to  the  long  rows  of  barrels  and 
shelves  of  bottles  covered  with  mould, 
said :  — 

"  It  is  all  good,  honest  wine.  If  you  drink 
with  me,  I  shall  be  satisfied." 

"Then  I  cannot  drink,"  said  the  youth, 
quickly.  He  looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  old 
man,  and  continued :  "  This  is  not  the  first 
time  I  have  seen  her.  I  have  lived  in  the 
village  there  for  a  month,  my  father,  only 
that  I  might  see  her  as  she  came  and  went. 
And  tell  me,  do  you  think  that  she  will  be 
always  happy  in  a  fish  shanty,  by  the  river- 
side, with  the  affection  only  of  a  foolish  old 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  227 

grandfather?  She  is  not  even  now  con- 
tented, but  every  day  looks  wistfully  toward 
the  city.  She  dreams  of  possessions  that 
can  never  come  to  her  as  the  wife  of  an 
old  fisherman ;  -and  do  you  think  it  pos- 
sible for  Pierre  Prevost  to  love  her  as  I 
do?" 

Even  Jean  Pilliod  could  find  nothing  to 
say  to  this,  for  he  loved  the  youth,  and  he 
knew  something  of  the  dreams  of  the  young 
wife,  and  more  than  this,  for  he  had  often 
laughed  at  the  foolish  ambitions  of  the  old 
fisherman.  But  he  shook  his  head  sadly, 
locked  the  door  of  his  wine  cellar,  and 
walked  away  from  the  youth  in  silence,  for 
this  was  his  duty. 

That  evening,  as  usual,  while  old  Pierre 
was  mending  his  nets  and  packing  the  day's 
fishing  for  the  market,  the  boy  and  his  child- 
mother  sat  near  him  by  the  river. 

"  Little  Mother  Madeleine,"  said  the  boy, 
"  tell  us  a  story  about  the  fairies  and  a 
princess." 

'*  I  was  just  now  thinking  of  one,"  answered 
Madeleine.  Old  Pierre  nodded  and  smiled, 
and  looked  at  his  wife  with  an  expression  of 
childish  delight  Just  then  the  wind  rustled 


228  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

the  leaves  of  the  willows  as  a  prelude,  and 
Madeleine  began :  — 

"  A  long  time  ago  there  was  a  very  gentle 
ogre  who  lived  by  the  sea,  and  the  only 
sorrow  that  he  knew  was  that,  while  in  his 
heart  he  cherished  only  a  desire  to  be  good 
and  kind,  he  was  for  some  unaccountable 
reason  an  ogre.  But  an  ogre  he  was ;  and 
accordingly,  one  day,  he  cast  a  spell  about  a 
beautiful  princess  and  carried  her  off  to  his 
great  stone  castle  by  the  sea. 

"  Now  the  ogre  was  so  sorry  for  the  prin- 
cess that  he  wove  his  spell  of  dew  from  the 
cups  of  May  blossoms,  and  for  a  long  time 
the  princess  moved  about  him  as  one  in  a 
light  and  peaceful  sleep.  The  things  around 
her  assumed  magical  shapes,  and  what  would 
otherwise  have  been  a  very  hard  lot  was 
almost  a  delight,  for  she  neither  felt  nor 
thought,  but  dreamed.  Sometimes  she  would 
realize  where  she  was  and  wonder  at  it ;  but 
then  another  dream  would  come,  and  her 
doubts  would  vanish  in  a  sigh. 

"  One  day  the  ogre  cast  his  nets  into  the 
sea  as  usual  and  sat  on  a  stone  near  by  until 
evening,  singing :  — 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  229 

" '  Come,  fishes,  come,  fishes,  with  long  and  sharp  fins, 
My  pretty  young  mistress  must  have  some  new  pins ; 
She  needs  them  to  fasten  her  twenty  pink  bows 
Upon  her  green  teagown  in  two  zigzag  rows; 
I've  baited  my  meshes  with  barley  for  you, 
So  come  along  quickly,  whatever  you  do.' 

"  All  day  the  ogre  sat  upon  the  rock  sing- 
ing, and  at  sunset  he  hauled  in  his  net. 
From  the  weight  he  fancied  he  must  have 
caught  all  the  fishes  of  the  sea,  but  when 
his  haul  was  safe  on  shore,  imagine  his  sur- 
prise to  find  but  one,  and  that  no  larger 
than  a  perch.  He  was  about  to  throw  it 
into  the  water  when  he  noticed  that  it  was 
a  very  curious  fish.  Its  eyes  were  human 
and  of  a  beautiful  brown;  its  fins  were  like 
little  hands,  and  its  scales  —  " 

"  Its  scales,"  interrupted  the  old  man,  who 
was  listening  in  the  most  intense  excitement, 
"  were  of  pure  gold.  Come,  Madeleine,  was 
it  not  a  fish  of  gold  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  assented,  with  a  merry  nod, 
"  and  its  scales  were  of  pure  gold.  Now, 
when  the  ogre  saw  this,  he  left  his  nets  to 
take  care  of  themselves  and  returned  to  the 
castle  with  so  great  speed  that  he  puffed  like 
a  hurricane.  When  he  entered  the  chamber 


230  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

of  the  enchanted  princess  he  inadvertently 
blew  her  out  of  the  window,  and  after  her 
went  the  fish  of  gold.  The  ogre  rushed  to 
the  casement  in  a  terrible  fright,  but,  looking 
beneath,  he  saw  the  princess  resting  in  the 
arms  of  a  youth  in  golden  armour,  who  was 
fanning  her  back  to  consciousness  with  the 
long  yellow  plume  of  his  bonnet. 

"  *  Is  she  hurt  ? '  screamed  the  ogre. 

"'She  is  not,'  replied  the  knight,  with  a 
savage  glance  upward,  '  but  she  would  have 
broken  every  bone  in  her  sweet  body  if  I 
had  not  caught  her.' 

"  *  And  who  are  you  ? '  asked  the  ogre,  in 
astonishment. 

" '  I  am  Richard  — '  " 

Here  Madeleine  blushed  and  murmured 
in  such  confusion  that  old  Pierre  leaned 
forward  eagerly  and  said, — 

"  What,  what  —  I  did  not  quite  hear  you, 
Madeleine." 

" '  I  am  Richard,  the  Knight  of  the  Bonnet 
and  Plume/  he  replied. 

" '  Oh,'  said  the  ogre,  who,  though  he  had 
never  heard  of  such  a  knight,  was  too  polite 
to  say  so.  He  popped  in  from  the  window 
and  hurried  down  the  stairs  to  the  garden ; 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  231 

but  when  he  arrived  the  stranger  had  dis- 
appeared, and  the  enchanted  princess  was 
just  coming  to  herself,  seated  on  a  bank  of 
violets  with  the  fish  of  gold  beside  her. 

"  *  How  did  I  get  here  ? '  she  inquired, 
when  her  eyes  were  open. 

"  '  Oh,  I  just  blew  you  down,'  said  the  ogre, 
anxious  to  make  light  of  his  awkwardness. 
'  Did  you  enjoy  it,  my  dear  ? ' 

"  The  princess  looked  at  him  in  a  way 
to  make  forty  ogres  tremble,  and  would  un- 
doubtedly have  said  something  very  sarcastic 
had  she  not  suddenly  noticed  the  gold  fish 
by  her  side.  Then  every  other  thing  was 
forgotten,  and  when  the  ogre  told  her  it  was 
to  her  he  had  brought  it,  she  jumped  up  from 
the  bed  of  violets  and  danced  all  around  the 
garden.  She  put  the  fish  in  a  golden  punch- 
bowl filled  with  water  and  carried  it  to  her 
own  chamber.  That  night,  as  she  was  comb- 
ing her  beautiful  hair,  she  could  not  help 
looking,  now  and  then,  into  the  punch-bowl, 
and  each  time  that  she  looked  the  human 
brown  eyes  of  the  fish  were  upon  her.  If  she 
moved  from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other, 
the  fish  moved  in  the  same  direction  round 
the  little  circle  of  the  bowl,  until,  affected  by 


232  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

its  manner,  she  went  near  it,  and  bending 
over  it,  said :  — 

"  *  Oh,  fish  of  gold,  why  do  you  follow 
me  so  constantly  with  your  sorrowful 
eyes  ? ' 

"  Whereupon  the  fish,  with  one  swift  move- 
ment of  its  tail,  leaped  from  the  bowl  to  the 
floor  and  disappeared.  In  its  place  stood  a 
youth  in  golden  armour,  with  a  gay  bonnet 
and  plume  of  gold  upon  his  head. 

" '  It  is  I,  sweet  princess,'  he  said,  *  the 
Knight  of  the  Bonnet  and  Plume.  I  have 
taken  this  method  of  gaining  an  entrance  to 
this  castle,  and  if  you  love  me,  we  will  find  a 
way  to  escape  from  the  ogre  who  keeps  you 
here.' 

"At  this  moment  the  ogre  entered,  and 
was  very  much  surprised  to  see  the  Knight 
of  the  Bonnet  and  Plume  there.  But  when 
the  princess  had  explained  the  situation  to 
him,  and  had  told  him  that  she  loved  the 
knight,  he  said :  — 

" '  I  am  sure  I  hope  you  can  find  a  way  to 
escape,  for  I  would  like  nothing  better  than 
your  happiness.  I  would  never  have  cast  a 
spell  over  you  at  all  if  I  had  not  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  an  ogre.  I  don't  want  to  be  an 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  233 

ogre,  and  never  would  have  been  if  I  had  had 
anything  to  do  about  it.' 

"  So  saying,  he  sat  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed  in  the  most  dejected  manner. 

" '  Let  us  all  try  and  think  of  some  way  to 
escape,'  said  the  princess. 

"  So  she  and  the  Knight  of  the  Bonnet 
and  Plume  sat  down  by  the  side  of  the  ogre 
to  think. 

"  There  they  sat  without  moving  for  three 
years  and  three  days,  when  the  knight 
said,  — 

"  *  If  we  should  walk  out  of  that  door  and 
down  the  stairs  to  the  garden,  we  could  prob- 
ably get  out,  if  the  gate  is  not  locked.' 

"  *  The  gate  is  locked/  replied  the  ogre, 
*  with  three  locks ;  but  in  each  lock  there  is 
a  key,  and  if  you  turn  the  three  keys  the  gate 
will  swing  open  of  its  own  accord  and  there 
will  be  nothing  to  hinder  you.' 

" '  Let  us  try  it,'  cried  the  knight. 

"  *  We  will,'  said  the  princess. 

"  *  May  I  go  with  you  ? '  pleaded  the  ogre, 
'  because  I  shall  be  lonesome  here.' 

"  The  knight  and  the  princess  consented, 
and  all  three  walked  away  to  the  king's  pal- 
ace, where  a  great  wedding  took  place  amid 


234  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

the  rejoicing  of  the  whole  kingdom.  The 
royal  parents  could  not  lavish  honours  enough 
upon  the  brave  knight  who  had  rescued  their 
beautiful  princess  from  the  ogre  and  his  great 
stone  castle  by  the  sea." 

"  That's  a  very  good  story,  Madeleine," 
said  the  old  man,  nodding  at  her*  in  em- 
phatic approval.  "  But  it  was  too  bad  to 
have  the  fish  of  gold  nothing  but  a  man, 
after  all." 

"  He  was  a  very  handsome  youth,"  sighed 
the  young  wife. 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  he  answered.  "  He 
must  have  looked  very  brave  in  his  shining 
armour  and  bright  bonnet ;  but  there  are  not 
many  gold  fish  in  the  sea." 

Old  Pierre,  crossing  his  wrinkled  brown 
hands,  continued :  "  I  have  lived  a  long  time  ; 
but  though  never  a  day  passes  when  I  forget 
them,  or  a  night  but  that  I  look  for  them,  I 
have  never  found  a  trace  t>f  the  little  people. 
This  world  has  been  a  dull  world  since  the 
fairies  went  away,  and  people  must  bear  their 
own  burdens.  But,"  he  added  more  cheer- 
fully, "  I  shall  catch  a  netful  of  gold  fish  one 
of  these  days,  and  then — " 

"And  then,"  interrupted  Madeleine;  but 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  235 

neither  the  old  fisherman  nor  his  young  wife 
finished  their  reflections  aloud. 

The  next  day,  in  the  midst  of  a  revery, 
Madeleine  looked  up  and  saw  Richard  stand- 
ing by  the  door.  She  uttered  a  cry  of  aston- 
ishment and  delight,  and  dropped  the  bread 
she  was  carrying  to  the  oven  upside  down  on 
the  floor. 

"  Never  mind  that,"  said  the  youth,  laugh- 
ing, "but  come  with  me.  I  have  bought 
you  a  mahogany  brougham  with  a  coachman 
in  a  green  velvet  coat  and  white  breeches. 
If  you  will  come  with  me,  dear  princess,  you 
shall  have  as  many  brocaded  gowns  as  you 
wish,  and  whatever  there  is  in  the  world,  be- 
sides, to  make  you  happy." 

He  held  his  hand  toward  her,  and  his  eyes 
were  so  full  of  entreaty  that  she  could  think 
of  nothing  to  say  or  do.  As  she  did  not 
move,  but  stood  smiling  at  him,  her  eyes 
bright  with  desire,  he  went  in,  and,  taking 
her  hand,  led  her  to  the  door. 

"  See,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  distant  road 
on  the  river  bank,  "there  is  the  mahogany 
brougham  as  you  have  desired  and  the  coach- 
man, too.  Will  you  come,  dear  Madeleine  ? " 

She  looked  toward  the  road  for  a  moment, 


236  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

then  drew  her  hand  away  and  shook  her  head 
with  a  sigh.  But  her  cheeks  were  flushed, 
and  her  eyes  shone  brightly  under  their 
drooping  lids. 

"  Madeleine,"  he  said,  "  you  need  not  go 
away,  but  you  will  at  least  come  and  see 
them." 

Again  she  looked  toward  the  road,  and, 
thinking  there  could  be  no  harm  in  just  see- 
ing them,  consented.  The  youth  and  Made- 
leine left  the  cabin  and  walked  together  across 
the  island.  They  did  not  follow  the  path, 
but  found  a  way  through  the  fields  of  tall 
grain  until  they  came  to  the  water's  edge. 
Richard  pushed  his  boat  from  its  hiding 
place  in  the  bushes  and  assisted  Madeleine 
into  it.  All  this  while  neither  had  spoken, 
but  their  hearts  were  full  of  a  great  delight 
because  of  each  other's  presence.  When 
Madeleine  was  seated,  Richard  looked  into 
her  eyes  and  said  :  — 

"  I  love  you  and  shall  always,  and  I  know 
that  you  love  me.  So,  whatever  you  do,  even 
if  I  should  never  see  you  again,  I  shall  think 
of  you  tenderly.  But  neither  you  nor  I  will 
be  happy  again  unless  we  are  together." 

Then  he  took  the  oars  and  rowed  in  silence. 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  237 

When  they  reached  the  road  her  tears 
vanished  and  her  eyes  grew  as  big  as  black- 
berries, for  there  by  her  side  was  the  most 
marvellous  brougham  in  the  world,  and  a 
coachman  as  gorgeous  as  a  parrot,  holding 
the  reins  to  four  dappled  horses.  The  door 
stood  open  and  she  stepped  in  to  see  how  it 
looked  inside.  Richard  said,  "  Shall  we  drive 
a  little  way  to  see  how  it  seems  ? "  and  she 
answered,  "  We  might  drive  a  little  way,  just 
to  see  how  it  seems." 

Richard  seated  himself  by  her  side ;  the 
gay-coated  coachman  gave  a  loud  crack  of 
his  whip,  and  the  four  dappled  horses  started 
off  with  a  bound.  Never  before  had  Made- 
leine known  such  delight.  The  seat  of  the 
coach  was  as  soft  as  a  summer  cloud,  and 
there  was  a  yellow  satin  cushion  filled  with 
swansdown  for  her  feet.  She  looked  from 
the  window  and  saw  the  world  float  past  her, 
a  constantly  changing  picture  of  forests  and 
flowery  fields.  The  enchantment  was  broken 
as  she  glanced  at  her  gingham  gown,  and  a 
sudden  recollection  of  the  cabin,  of  the  old 
fisherman,  her  husband,  and  of  little  Pierre 
drove  the  colour  from  her  face  and  the  wild 
happiness  from  her  eyes. 


238  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  We  must  go  back,"  she  faltered. 

"Very  well,"  Richard  replied,  "it  shall  be 
as  you  wish." 

The  four  dappled  horses  were  turned  about 
in  a  moment,  and  a  little  later  Madeleine, 
looking  from  the  window  of  the  brougham, 
saw  the  island  beneath  her. 

He  did  not  urge  her  to  remain,  but  as  he 
helped  her  to  alight  he  pressed  her  hand  and 
looked  into  her  eyes  in  such  a  manner  that 
no  words  were  necessary.  Madeleine  patted 
the  side  of  the  brougham  and  looked  in 
admiration  at  the  gay  costume  of  the  coach- 
man. She  glanced  gratefully  at  Richard  and 
murmured  an  acknowledgment  of  his  good- 
ness. 

"  Of  course,"  she  added,  "  you  know  that  I 
could  not  really  go  away  with  you,  even  if  I 
would,  and  that  I  cannot  say  I  would  when 
it  is  impossible  for  me  to  do  it." 

"  I  see  no  good  reason  why  you  should 
not  leave  the  old  fisherman,"  replied  Richard, 
"and  come  with  me.  He  had  no  right  to 
marry  you  as  soon  as  you  were  born,  and  he 
should  now  take  the  consequences  of  his 
impudence." 

"  I   wish  — "     She  stood  for  a  moment 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  239 

with  the  unfinished  sentence  on  her  lips, 
and  then  in  silence  turned  toward  the  path 
down  the  hillside  to  the  boat. 

Richard  left  her  near  the  willows,  saying, 
"  I  will  not  come  again  for  a  week,  but  every 
day  your  brougham  will  be  waiting  for  you." 

Madeleine  watched  his  departure  through 
a  mist  of  tears. 

"  I  do  love  him,"  she  told  herself,  while 
trembling  at  the  confession.  "  What  a 
strange  thing  that  I  should  be  the  wife  of 
old  Pierre.  If  he  were  only  my  father. 
Indeed,  it  is  only  as  a  father  that  I  have 
thought  of  him.  I  did  not  know  what  love 
was.  My  kind  old  ogre,  if  you  could  but 
know  how  unhappy  I  am." 

By  nightfall  she  had  recovered  a  little  from 
her  despair,  and  when  she  heard  the  sound 
of  oars  she  hastened  to  the  river,  for  it  was  a 
welcome  sound  in  the  midst  of  her  loneli- 
ness. The  old  fisherman  had  brought  her 
a  string  of  glass  beads  and  little  Pierre  an 
ancient  Christmas  card  with  a  picture  of  two 
shining  angels  upon  it. 

Now,  as  it  happened,  Jean  Pilliod  had 
been  a  witness  to  Madeleine's  adventure, 
and  it  was  with  a  troubled  heart  that  he 


240  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

contemplated  the  possibilities  of  Richard's 
wooing. 

"  I  will  have  a  talk  with  my  old  friend," 
he  said  at  the  conclusion  of  his  reflections ; 
"  for  it  is  my  opinion  that  a  little  wisdom  is 
sometimes  a  good  thing  in  the  world." 

That  evening  he  stood  at  the  open  door 
of  the  cabin  and  said :  — 

"  Pierre  Prevost,  I  think  there  will  be  a 
strong  wind  to-night.  If  you  can  help  me 
get  the  cattle  to  shelter,  I  will  help  you  mend 
the  nets  after  the  next  day's  fishing." 

The  willows  at  that  moment  were  caught 
by  a  passing  gust,  and  seemed  in  their  own 
way  to  join  in  the  prophecy  of  the  old  man. 

When  they  were  some  distance  from  the 
house  Jean  Pilliod  said  :  — 

"  The  cattle  are  already  under  shelter,  but 
it  is  a  serious  matter  I  have  to  speak  with 
you  about  My  old  friend,  little  Pierre  is 
your  son  by  adoption,  and  Madeleine,  his 
sister,  is  the  daughter  of  a  woman  you  loved ; 
and  when  that  woman  died,  deserted  by  her 
husband,  she  gave  their  two  children  to  you, 
Pierre  as  a  son  and  Madeleine  as  a  wife, 
because  she  thought  in  this  manner  the 
evils  of  her  own  life  would  be  kept  from 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  241 

her.  You  have  treated  her  as  a  daughter, 
and  until  this  time  she  has  known  no  un- 
happiness.  All  this  is  true,  is  it  not?" 

The  old  fisherman  gave  a  wondering 
assent. 

"  And  you  love  her  only  as  a  daughter  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,  also,"  he  answered.  "  She 
has  been  as  my  own  child  to  me.  But  what 
serious  matter  is  there  in  all  this  ? "  and  he 
looked  anxiously  at  his  companion. 

"Surely,  my  good  Pierre  Prevost,  you 
know  that  when  God  made  the  heart  of  a 
maiden  he  fashioned  it  of  love  and  placed 
the  image  of  a  youth  therein.  Since  when 
has  one  ever  been  satisfied  with  the  affection 
of  a  father?" 

"  Of  what  are  you  speaking  ? "  exclaimed 
Pierre  Prevost  in  astonishment.  "  It  was 
yesterday  that  Madeleine  laughed.  She  has 
been  as  merry  as  a  chickadee  for  these  ten 
years,  when  the  days  are  fine.  It  is  only 
bad  weather  that  saddens  her." 

"  That  is  true  enough  of  these  ten  years 
past,"  returned  Jean  Pilliod.  "But  there 
will  be  many  a  fine  day  in  the  future  when 
your  sweet  chickadee  would  rather  weep 
than  sing." 


242  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"  Why,"  cried  old  Pierre,  in  alarm,  "  what 
has  happened  ? " 

"You  have  heard  the  woodpecker  sound 
his  amorous  summons  on  the  trees  in  spring, 
and  the  call  of  the  robin  and  the  thrush  ;  and 
you  have  seen  the  feathered  maidens  of  their 
kind  listen  with  drooping  heads  until  some 
voice  in  the  forest  or  field  awakened  them  to 
love?" 

"  I  have  heard  all  this,"  answered  Pierre 
Prevost,  impatiently.  "  But  Madeleine  is 
neither  a  woodpecker,  a  robin,  nor  a  thrush." 

"  And  yet,"  returned  Jean  Pilliod,  gravely, 
"she  has  heard  the  voice  of  her  lover,  and 
do  you  think  she  can  hear  in  silence  and  be 
happy  again  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  cried  the  old  fisher- 
man. "What  lover  has  Madeleine  that  I 
know  nothing  of?  Has  some  good-for-noth- 
ing in  the  village  been  here  again  ? " 

"Pierre  Prevost,"  said  Jean  Pilliod,  angrily, 
"are  you  a  fool?  Do  you  think  there  are 
none  but  good-for-nothings  in  the  world  ? 
And  can  you  suppose  that  Madeleine  would 
find  music  in  the  voice  of  a  blue  jay  ?  Have 
not  all  the  scamps  in  the  country  and  gay 
fellows  from  the  city  been  wooing  her  in 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  243 

vain  for  just  one  look  of  love  for  a  year? 
Richard  Ingovy  is  a  bold  and  noble  youth. 
Madeleine  could  more  easily  prevent  her 
heart  from  beating  than  from  loving  him. 
Come,"  he  added  more  gently,  "  if  yours  is 
the  affection  of  a  father,  my  friend  Pierre, 
this  is  a  great  blessing  come  upon  you ;  for 
what  father  does  not  find  his  joy  in  the 
happiness  of  his  children  ? " 

Pierre  Prevost  was  silent.  Doubt,  fear, 
and  a  feeling  of  loneliness  oppressed  him, 
for  in  the  affection  of  the  most  gentle  of 
fathers  there,  is  some  selfishness.  He  re- 
membered Madeleine's  half-concealed  melan- 
choly, which  he  had  scarcely  noticed  before. 
Jean  Pilliod  had  left  him,  and  he  was  stand- 
ing alone  near  the  willows.  The  wind,  which 
had  been  rapidly  rising  during  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  old  men,  tossed  the  long  branches 
above  him  as  if  in  a  frenzy,  and  an  ominous 
murmur  came  from  the  grain  fields.  Sud- 
denly Pierre  Prevost  laughed.  It  was  a  soft 
and  musical  sound  which  the  wind  whirled 
away  in  an  instant,  but  the  merry  light  in 
his  eyes  remained.  He  had  remembered  the 
story  of  the  kind  ogre  and  the  enchanted 
princess,  and  it  had  a  new  meaning  for  him 


244  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

now.  His  hat  blew  off,  and  he  chased  it  to 
the  cabin  door.  When  he  entered  he  found 
Madeleine  bravely  at  work  in  an  almost 
hopeless  effort  to  mend  the  tattered  coat  of 
little  Pierre.  The  boy  was  sitting  by  the 
window  listening  to  the  wind.  The  old  man 
looked  closely  at  his  wife,  and  she,  lifting  her 
eyes,  smiled  and  nodded  in  recognition  of  his 
return. 

The  next  day  as  Madeleine  was  alone  in 
the  cabin  it  was  only  natural  that  her  lover 
should  be  constantly  in  her  mind.  In  what- 
ever direction  she  might  attempt  to  go,  her 
feet  always  led  her  to  the  doorsill,  and  look 
which  way  she  would,  it  was  impossible  to 
prevent  a  glance  toward  the  distant  roadway. 

As  she  could  not  see  the  brougham,  she 
began  to  wonder  if  it  really  were  there. 

"  Surely,"  she  told  herself,  "  there  can  be 
no  harm  in  going  just  to  see." 

She  put  on  a  new  apron,  and  her  bonnet 
with  white  mull  strings,  and  hurried  through 
the  fields  to  the  other  side  of  the  island. 

There  was  the  boat  hidden  in  the  bushes 
with  the  oars  in  their  places.  As  she  could 
see  no  better  there  than  at  the  cabin,  she 
rowed  across  and  ascended  the  path  to  the 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  245 

road.  Before  her  stood  the  mahogany 
brougham  and  the  coachman  in  his  green 
velvet  coat  and  white  breeches. 

Poor  Madeleine  was  distracted.  She 
looked  at  the  brougham  with  beating  heart. 
There  was  no  one  near  but  the  gay-coated 
coachman,  and  he  looked  straight  over  his 
horses'  heads,  immovable  as  a  man  of  stone. 
She  tiptoed  to  the  open  door  and  looked  in. 
There  was  the  yellow  satin  cushion  of  swans- 
down  for  her  feet,  and  in  the  very  place 
where  she  had  been  seated  before  was  a 
bunch  of  white  roses. 

"O  dear,  O  dear,"  said  Madeleine,  with 
a  sob.  She  hurried  back  to  the  boat  and 
through  the  fields  to  the  cabin  without  so 
much  as  a  glance  behind. 

In  this  manner  the  whole  week  passed. 
Every  day  came  a  stronger  temptation  to 
Madeleine,  and  every  evening  she  sat  with 
her  old  husband  and  little  Pierre,  telling 
stories  by  the  river. 

"It  is  a  very  easy  matter,"  she  would  some- 
times say  to  herself,  "to  make  everything 
come  right  in  a  fairy  tale,"  but  her  own  trou- 
bles seemed  to  grow  heavier,  and  she  could 
see  no  way  out  of  them. 


246  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

"He  will  surely  come  to-day,"  she  said, 
when  the  week  had  passed,  "  and  I  shall  see 
him  again.  Then  he  will  go  away  forever, 
and  I  must  try  once  more  to  find  content- 
ment here." 

But  she  knew  very  well  how  it  would  be. 
Although  she  desired  to  put  on  her  prettiest 
dress  that  morning,  she  did  not  do  it,  because 
she  had  never  worn  it  before  except  on  holi- 
days, and  she  was  determined  to  be  very 
stern  with  herself. 

But  when  she  saw  him  standing  by  the 
door,  smiling  as  he  had  smiled  when  she  first 
saw  him,  she  forgot  her  good  resolutions  and, 
sitting  in  the  chair  nearest  her,  fell  to  weep- 
ing. Richard  came  to  her  side  and  said 
softly,  — 

"  Would  you  be  happier  if  I  went  away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Richard,"  she  answered,  "  I  can 
never  be  really  happy  again ;  but  it  must  be 
as  it  is,  for  am  I  not  already  a  wife  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  old  Pierre  from  the  door- 
way. Both  Richard  and  Madeleine  were 
very  much  startled,  but  the  old  fisherman 
was  beaming  upon  them  with  such  a  merry 
face  that  they  smiled  in  answer. 

"  You  are  a  wife  in  name  only,  my  sweet 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  247 

Madeleine."  Then  he  told  them  how  she 
and  little  Pierre  had  been  given  to  him  long 
ago,  and  added,  u  so  you  see  the  ogre  was 
really  an  ogre  in  spite  of  himself;  and  now 
that  the  prince  has  arrived,  we  will  not  sit 
on  the  edge  of  a  bed  for  three  years,  but  pro- 
ceed at  once  to  a  wedding." 

Whereupon  he  rushed  into  the  cabin  and 
caught  Madeleine  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and  handing  her 
to  Richard,  rushed  out  again. 

So  Madeleine  and  Richard  were  married 
and  rode  away  after  the  wedding  in  the  ma- 
hogany brougham.  Though  they  pleaded 
with  the  old  fisherman  to  go  with  them,  he 
stoutly  refused,  and  kept  little  Pierre  with 
him. 

A  few  days  later  when  he  went  to  look  at 
his  nets,  he  found  them  filled  with  gold  fish. 
"  At  last  I  have  caught  them ! "  he  cried  in 
the  wildest  delight,  and  neither  Richard  nor 
Madeleine  would  have  had  him  know  how 
they  came  there,  for  the  world. 

Every  evening  old  Pierre  sat  in  his  purple 
dressing  gown  and  morocco  slippers,  —  in  the 
summer  by  his  own  cabin,  where  Jean  Pilliod 
would  often  join  him,  and  in  the  winter  by 


248  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

his  fireside  or  the  fireside  of  his  friend.  This 
was  luxury  enough,  for  like  a  true  philoso- 
pher he  preferred  to  dream  of  the  most 
tempting  extravagances  and  enjoy  them  for- 
ever, than  to  possess  the  reality  for  a  mo- 
ment. Living  in  this  manner,  he  never  had 
occasion  to  sigh  for  the  days  of  his  poverty, 
but  continued  to  be  both  rich  and  happy. 
Is  not  the  possessor  of  dreams  the  most  for- 
tunate of  beings  ?  No  winds  can  rend  the 
countless  ships  of  his  fleet,  no  thieves  can 
steal,  nor  moths  destroy  his  merchandise. 
His  wealth  increases  more  rapidly  than  a 
miser  can  compute.  Neither  time  nor  dis- 
tance can  retard  his  travel.  No  loom  of 
earth  can  rival  his  exquisite  fabrics,  nor  Na- 
ture herself  equal  the  beauty  of  his  landscape. 
His  pleasures  never  become  a  burden,  for 
there  is  no  limit  to  their  variety.  It  is  only 
by  exchanging  a  dream  for  an  earthly  trinket 
that  we  can  know  disappointment.  Oh, 
blessed  of  the  earth,  touch  not  your  dreams, 
for  they  are  more  easily  broken  than  the 
cobweb  that  glistens  in  the  morning,  and  the 
colour  will  vanish  as  from  the  wings  of  a  but- 
terfly at  the  touch  of  your  hand.  Oh,  little 
Pierre,  little  Pierre,  will  you  some  day  learn 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  249 

to  love  your  princess  and  to  leave  her  free? 
Or  will  you,  too,  make  captives  of  the  heav- 
enly messengers  ? 

###### 

As  the  last  words  of  the  story  were  spoken, 
Sister  Melita  drew  a  few  tender  chords  from 
the  harp,  ceasing  as  the  convent  clock  tolled 
another  hour.  Now  followed  the  De  Pro- 
fundis,  and  Father  Richter  murmured :  "  Out 
of  the  depths  have  I  cried  unto  thee,  O 
Lord.  O  Lord,  hear  my  prayer."  Polly, 
forgetting  the  archbishop,  put  her  cheek 
against  the  hand  of  Father  L'Amora  and 
sighed.  Edna  dropped  her  head  upon  the 
shoulder  of  Sister  Cordelia  and  listened  to 
the  fountain.  Hilda  sat  with  her  hands 
clasped  over  her  knee,  gazing  intently  be- 
fore her.  Her  lips  moved  once  as  she  un- 
consciously whispered  "  Pierre."  She  was 
again  hurrying  with  him  across  the  island 
in  the  moonlight,  again  peering  with  him 
through  the  door  of  the  hut  upon  the  empty 
bed.  Now  she  was  in  a  boat  on  the  river; 
but  the  figure  in  the  prow  was  no  longer  a 
phantom,  it  was  Pierre. 

"  My  children,"  said  the  archbishop,  "  may 
your  dreams  by  night  and  by  day  be  inno- 


250  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

cent  and  sweet."  With  this  blessing  he  left 
them  and  returned  with  Father  Richter  to 
the  house.  On  the  way,  he  said  :  • — 

"  We  all  have  something  of  the  ogre  about 
us.  We  would  imprison  ourselves  and  those 
we  love  in  the  castles  of  our  own  conceits. 
If  we  examine  these  formidable,  locked  doors 
of  ours  with  a  generous  eye,  we  will  see  the 
keys  therein.  I  pray  you,  my  dear  brother, 
to  throw  open  your  doors." 


CHAPTER   XII 

"  FATHER  L'AMORA,"  said  Polly,  when  the 
girls  and  the  two  sisters  were  alone  with  him 
on  the  lawn,  "  what  did  you  mean  by  asking 
Pierre  if  he  would  seek  to  make  captive  the 
heavenly  messengers ;  if  he  would  not  learn 
to  love  his  princess  and  leave  her  free? 
Don't  you  see  that  the  princess  is  not  free, 
and  that  she  would  rather  be  Pierre's  captive 
than  the  ogre's,  amiable  as  he  may  be  ?  You 
must  not  forget  the  princess,  you  know." 

Father  L'Amora  laughed. 

"  Do  you  think,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  that 
the  teller  of  a  story  ever  knows  what  he 
means?  His  is  only  the  gift  of  speech. 
Those  who  listen  are  his  interpreters." 

"  I  will  tell  you,  then,  what  you  meant," 
said  Edna.  "  What  we  love  may  become 
ours,  perhaps,  but  we  do  not  enjoy  it  in  the 
—  I  mean,  our  enjoyment  of  it  is  not  in  pos- 
sessing it,  but  in  the  love  we  feel." 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  he,  "  that  you  find  so 
251 


252  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

much  wisdom  in  my  story.  What  did  you 
say,  Hilda?" 

She  had  spoken,  but  so  low  no  one  heard. 
Now  she  asked,  hardly  above  a  murmur,  — 

"  Did  you  really  know  Pierre  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  knew  him.  Pierre  and  old  Jean 
Pilliod  really  lived  on  the  island.  That  is, 
these  two  were  like  my  Jean  and  Pierre  in 
their  natures,  not  in  their  outward  circum- 
stances or  relations.  When  I  wrote  the  story 
I  scarcely  knew  either  of  them,  and  did  not 
know  that  the  one  was  the  grandchild  of  the 
other.  I  first  met  the  boy  in  a  way  that 
awakened  my  fancy,  and  I  wrote  the  story 
that  night." 

"  How  did  you  meet  him  ? "  asked  Hilda. 

"  I  was  walking  toward  the  city  from 
Maumee  one  day,  ten  years  ago.  As  I  came 
near  the  orphan  asylum,  about  a  mile  from 
the  village,  I  met  a  boy  just  leaving  the  gate. 
He  was  a  handsome  little  lad,  with  dark  hair 
and  eyes,  and  he  was  crying.  As  soon  as  he 
saw  me,  he  tried  to  conceal  that  fact  in  a 
whistle.  I  managed  to  make  friends  with 
him,  and  found  that  his  name  was  Pierre  and 
that  he  lived  on  the  island.  It  seems  that  a 
little  girl,  a  playmate  of  his,  had  been  taken 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  253 

to  the  asylum  some  time  before.  He  had 
not  seen  her  since,  and  had  run  away  from 
school  that  day  to  find  her.  When  he  asked 
for  her  at  the  door,  he  was  told  she  had  gone 
away  on  the  boat  and  would  never  come  back. 
He  told  all  this  so  simply,  and  revealed  such 
a  wistful,  restless,  fine  little  soul  in  the  telling, 
that  I  could  not  forget  it.  I  went  to  the 
asylum  to  make  inquiries,  and  was  referred 
to  the  register.  She  had  been  sent  with 
some  woman  to  Dakota.  Of  course  that 
was  the  last  of  her,  but  I  used  to  see  the 
boy  now  and  then.  I  noticed  him  very  often 
when  the  boat  came  up,  standing  on  a  cer- 
tain little  knoll  at  the  north  edge  of  the 
island,  and  I  fancied  by  the  way  he  watched 
it  that  he  was  thinking  of  this  girl  he  had 
lost;  and,  to  such  a  boy  as  he,  she  would 
surely  be  a  princess." 

"Did  you — did  you  see  him  of  ten?  "asked 
Hilda. 

"  Not  at  first.  But  one  day  I  heard  him 
mentioned  as  a  bad  boy  —  a  terrible  little 
runaway.  He  would  not  go  to  school,  and 
had  been  twice  picked  up  by  the  police  of 
the  city  and  sent  home.  There  was  some 
talk  of  putting  him  in  a  reform  school.  One 


254  A  PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

day  I  saw  him  on  the  dock  at  Perrysburg, 
waiting,  as  I  thought,  for  a  chance  to  slip  on 
the  boat  unseen.  I  induced  him  to  go  with 
me,  and  we  had  a  wonderful  afternoon  to- 
gether in  the  church.  I  knew  by  my  own 
memories  how  the  vaulted  ceiling,  the  coloured 
lights  from  the  stained  windows,  and  the 
music  of  the  organ  would  appeal  to  him.  I 
played  for  him,  and  he  never  moved  all  the 
time  we  were  there.  I  went  home  with  him 
and  talked  with  his  people.  His  mother  did 
not  understand  him  at  all ;  his  father  was 
rather  indifferent,  but  thought  he  should  be 
made  to  go  to  school  and  begin  to  work. 
His  grandfather,  however,  listened  to  me 
with  tears  in  his  eyes  when  I  suggested  that 
he  should  be  allowed  to  stop  school  and 
come  to  me  in  the  afternoons.  I  would  teach 
him  myself,  and  he  might  work  with  his 
father  in  the  morning.  This  was  finally 
agreed  to.  In  this  way  we  commenced  a 
friendship  that  has  been  very  dear  to  me." 

"  Well,"  said  Hilda,  trying  to  speak  lightly, 
"  and  what  happened  next  ?  " 

"  You  don't  expect  two  stories  in  one  even- 
ing, do  you  ? " 

"  Come,  girls,"  said  Sister  Cordelia,  "  even 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  255 

our  guests  must  go  to  bed  some  time.  If 
you  would  keep  those  pretty  roses  in  your 
cheeks,  you  must  sleep  early  and  not  late. 
You  see  that  Hilda  has  already  lost  hers." 

When  Edna  awoke  the  next  morning  the 
bed  on  her  left  was  empty.  Hilda  was  not 
there.  "  She  has  gone  for  an  early  bath," 
she  thought,  and  curled  up  for  another  nap. 

For  an  hour  before  dawn  Hilda  had  walked 
the  dark  corridors.  As  soon  as  it  began  to 
grow  light,  she  went  into  the  chapel,  passed 
slowly  up  the  aisle,  and  stood  for  a  long  time 
before  the  confessional. 

"  I  could  not  do  it,"  she  said,  and  turned 
away. 

Now  Hilda  had  dreamed  that  she  was  float- 
ing with  Pierre  in  a  boat.  They  were  lying 
together  on  a  bed  of  blossoms.  The  per- 
fumes were  strangely  sweet.  Pierre's  hand 
lay  lightly  upon  her  heart  as  he  slept.  She 
awoke  and  found  the  hand  was  her  own.  At 
first  this  had  seemed  to  her  a  beautiful  dream ; 
but  as  she  lay  smiling  in  a  half  doze,  certain 
mysterious  lines  of  the  catechism  and  of  the 
description  of  the  seven  deadly  sins  came 
now  vividly  before  her.  She  seemed  to  hear 
a  voice  saying,  "  Let  your  dreams  be  inno- 


256  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

cent  and  sweet,"  and  in  the  voice  there 
seemed  to  be  the  sternness  of  rebuke.  Her 
dream  had  been  sweet,  but  was  it  innocent  ? 
Did  she  know  now  what  was  meant  by  the 
entertaining  of  unpure  thoughts  ?  Oh,  were 
her  thoughts  sinful,  and  was  she  entertaining 
them  wilfully  and  with  delight?  She  crept 
from  her  bed,  hardly  knowing  what  she  did. 
Must  she  make  this  a  matter  of  confession? 
She  trembled  at  the  thought  of  the  austere 
voice  of  Father  Richter. 

When  the  convent  doors  were  open  at 
sunrise  she  walked  out,  and  taking  the  Way 
of  the  Holy  Angels,  went  slowly  to  the 
grotto. 

Now,  of  all  the  people  of  the  convent,  the 
aged  Monseignor  Ambrose  was  the  first  to 
be  up  in  the  morning.  It  was  his  delight  to 
awake  with  the  earth ;  and  every  sunrise,  for 
years,  had  found  him  waiting  for  it.  This 
morning  he  was  walking  near  the  grotto,  and 
saw  Hilda  enter.  He  had  often  talked  with 
her  and  her  friends,  and  he  turned  his  steps 
to  follow  her,  pleased  at  her  early  appearance. 
He  stopped  suddenly  under  the  arch  of  the 
entrance  and  turned  to  go.  She  was  kneel- 
ing at  the  shrine,  weeping. 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  257 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear,"  he  said  as 
she  looked  up,  startled. 

On  an  impulse  Hilda  called  to  him. 

"  Oh,  Monseignor  Ambrose,  will  you  help 
me?" 

The  old  man  went  to  her  at  once  and  took 
her  hand. 

"  What  is  it,  my  child  ? " 

"  May  I  confess  to  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  may.  But  I  will  tell  you 
at  once  that  you  have  not  sinned.  Here,  sit 
by  me  on  this  bench  and  convince  me.  That 
is  right,"  he  said  as  she  smiled.  "  Do  you 
hear  that  thrush  over  there  ?  He,  too,  is  at 
his  devotions.  That  is  the  way  such  as  you 
and  he  should  confess." 

"  But  perhaps,"  she  faltered,  "  I  have  really 
sinned." 

He  listened  with  closed  eyes  as  she  almost 
whispered  her  dream. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  that  was  a  very  sweet 
song.  Now  we  will  listen  to  the  thrush 
again,  for  he  has  not  finished  his." 

After  a  while  they  came  away,  and  he  said 
as  they  parted:  — 

"  Love  all  who  will  let  you,  and  you  may 
find  a  true  mate.  Conform  to  the  laws  of 


258  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

the  church  in  your  outward  life  and  conduct, 
but  let  your  soul  hearken  only  to  its  spirit. 
That  is  to  say,  love,  marry,  and  remain  virtu- 
ous. Go  to  confession  and  to  mass.  Look 
for  the  smiling,  tender  face  of  Truth  in  the 
chapel,  at  the  shrine,  in  the  gardens,  and  in 
the  fields.  Believe  in  the  innocence  of  your 
own  soul,  and  as  you  do  all  these  things  you 
need  have  no  fear  of  what  happiness  you 
dream  or  feel." 

It  was  with  a  quickly  beating  heart  that 
Hilda  saw  Father  L'Amora  walking  in  the 
grounds  again  that  afternoon.  He  was  on 
his  way  to  the  old  sisters,  but  Hilda  stopped 
him. 

"  May  I  ask  you  now  what  happened  next  ? 
What  became  of  Pierre  ?  " 

The  priest  smiled  kindly  and  said, — 

"Since  you  take  so  great  an  interest  in 
him,  I  will  show  you  his  picture." 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  snapped  back 
the  cover,  revealing  a  miniature  painting 
beautifully  done.  It  was  the  head  of  a  youth 
of  twenty. 

"  How  beautiful !  "  she  murmured ;  "  how 
sad!" 

"  Yes ;  it  is  difficult  for  a  boy  like  him  to 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  259 

find  what  he  seeks  in  the  world.  He  goes  in 
search  of  a  princess  and  is  returned  by  the 
police.  He  asks  the  way  to  a  city  of  palaces 
and  is  directed  to  the  reform  school.  But, 
my  dear,  we  need  not  be  so  sorrowful  about 
it,  for  all  this  teaches  him  in  time  that  the 
world  is  in  need  of  him.  He  must  himself 
bring  into  it  what  he  desires.  I  passed  a 
few  days  with  him  not  long  ago,  and  painted 
this  miniature." 

"  May  I  look  at  it  again  ? " 

He  wondered  at  the  deep  colour  of  her 
cheeks,  at  her  long  and  tender  gaze,  at 
the  unconscious  sigh,  as  closing  the  watch, 
she  returned  it  to  him.  But  beautiful  girls 
and  women  were  always,  in  his  eyes,  mysteri- 
ous and  holy  beings,  to  be  wondered  at  and 
loved,  but  never  questioned  seriously. 

Father  L'Amora  walked  on  to  the  old  sis- 
ters, and  Hilda  stood  for  a  long  time  where 
he  left  her,  her  eyes  bent  on  the  ground. 
Then  a  smile,  half  tender  and  half  mischiev- 
ous, came  stealing  to  her  lips.  It  was  her 

first  thought  of  love  as  a  maiden. 

****** 

Mr.  Alexander,  now  in  his  seventieth  year, 
was  more  regular  in  his  attention  to  business 


260  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

than  ever  in  his  life.  It  became  a  point  of 
honour  with  him  to  arrive  at  his  office  at  the 
stroke  of  nine  every  morning,  to  stand  about 
on  'Change  until  the  last  deal  was  closed,  and 
to  sit  at  his  desk  until  the  accounts  of  the 
day  were  settled.  Ten  years  ago  he  would 
have  come  and  gone  when  he  pleased,  and, 
if  the  fancy  prompted,  have  remained  away 
for  a  day  or  a  week.  Now,  he  was  afraid 
such  lapses  might  be  attributed  to  his  in- 
creasing age.  He  would  show  the  world 
that  he  was  as  young  as  the  best  of  them. 
He  examined  the  styles  with  his  tailor  as 
gravely  as  before,  and  every  day  he  wore  a 
fresh  carnation  in  his  button-hole. 

In  the  afternoon  he  would  drive  through 
the  parks  or  stroll  out  to  Mr.  Mott's.  He 
dined  every  evening  with  Primrose  and  her 
father,  read  the  day's  letter  from  Hilda,  for 
the  old  custom  had  not  been  dropped,  sat 
for  an  hour  musing  in  his  chair,  and  strolled 
back  to  his  club.  Primrose  had  urged  him 
in  vain  to  come  with  them  to  live. 

"  No,"  he  would  say,  "  an  old  bachelor  is 
a  gr^at  nuisance.  Clubs  and  club  servants 
are  made  for  just  such.  They  can  stand 
the  wear." 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  261 

He  would  frequently  challenge  his  friend 
Mott  to  a  ten-mile  walk. 

"  Come,"  the  other  would  reply,  "  make  it 
twenty." 

They  would  start  bravely  forth,  calling  to 
Primrose  not  to  forget  the  sort  of  appetites 
that  belong  to  boys.  "  Primrose,  remember 
the  hot  biscuit !  "  and  "  Primrose,  remember 
the  peas ! "  These  two  old  friends  had  ar- 
rived at  that  stage  where  they  could  call  each 
other's  most  cherished  theories  "stuff  and 
nonsense,"  without  creating  an  estrangement. 

Mr.  Mott,  though  he  thought  less  about  it, 
was  really  the  sturdier  of  the  two.  His  mind 
was  as  alert,  his  eye  as  clear,  his  innocence 
as  appalling  as  that  of  a  child  of  six.  His 
garden  was  the  world  to  him,  and  he  wished 
that  it  might  be  his  eternity  as  well.  He 
had  selected  the  place  for  his  bed  under  a 
mulberry  tree. 

"  When  the  frost  hits  me,"  he  said  to  Prim- 
rose, "  put  the  old  bulb  there." 

Then  he  seemed  to  think  no  more  about  it. 

He  was  now  soon  to  conclude  the  most 
interesting  of  all  his  experiments.  The  sum- 
mer before,  as  he  and  Mr.  Alexander  were 
looking  at  the  flower-beds  together,  and  the 


262  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

world  of  bees  and  insects  hovering  over 
them,  Mr.  Alexander  had  said,  — 

"  Where  do  all  these  bees  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  have  often  wondered.  If  they  had  not 
found  me  out,  I  should  have  been  obliged  to 
keep  a  hive." 

"  Why  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  many  of  these  flowers  would  not  do 
well  without  them." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  " 

"  You  don't  believe  me  ?  Well,  I  tell  you 
it's  so.  These  bees  and  insects  have  been 
my  real  gardeners.  I  have  seen  that  more 
and  more." 

"You  are  not  serious,  Christopher?" 

"  More  than  that,"  his  voice  began  to  rise 
in  his  eagerness,  for  he  had  never  before 
given  expression  to  this  idea,  and  it  became 
exciting  to  think  of  as  he  contended  for  it, 
"more  than  that,  I  believe  there  are  many 
flowers  that  owe  their  propagation  entirely 
to  the  bees." 

"  Christopher,"  said  the  other,  solemnly, 
"  you  need  a  walk." 

"I'll  walk  you,"  said  the  other.  "Take 
me  up  to  the  island  where  that  Pogonia  is. 
I'll  get  me  a  few  seeds  from  it." 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  263 

"  Have  you  remembered  that  for  ten  years?" 

"  Has  it  been  ten  years  ?  " 

"  No,  but  it  has  been  nine.  It  was  nine 
years  ago  that  I  brought  Hilda  here." 

During  all  the  long  walk  up  the  river  Mr. 
Alexander  was  thinking  of  her. 

"  I  tell  you,"  he  said  aloud,  "  that  was  a  good 
experiment." 

"  Which  one  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Hilda." 

"  I  will  show  you  by  your  own  plant,  Minot, 
that  what  I  say  is  so." 

"  I  have  proved,"  continued  the  other, 
"  that  a  girl  can  get  along  without  boys." 

"  I  must  have  a  plant,  though,  that  buds 
and  blossoms  entirely  protected  from  the 
bees.  I  would  not  even  risk  a  bud.  I  will 
gather  the  seeds  and  sow  them  and  divide 
the  plants.  Some  of  them  I  will  grow  in  the 
garden  and  some  in  my  experiment  house. 
Then  you  will  see." 

So  they  had  journeyed,  each  thinking  of 
his  own  experiments.  The  winter  and  spring 
had  passed,  and  the  Pogonias  were  about  to 
bloom.  Mr.  Mott  had  often  called  his  friend's 
attention  to  those  imprisoned  in  the  experi- 
ment house,  assuring  him  over  and  over  that 


264  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

no  bee  should  visit  them  and  that  in  ccinse- 
quence,  although  they  would  blossom  as 
gayly  as  their  sisters  of  the  garden,  they 
would  remain  sterile. 

"  And  the  same  thing  will  probably  happen 
with  this  lady-slipper,  and  perhaps  with  this 
petunia  I  have  grown  here.  These  flowers 
must  all  have  their  bees  or  they  would 
vanish." 

One  day  he  made  a  drawing  of  a  Pogonia 
blossom  for  his  friend,  and  showed  him  the 
long  protruding  petal  which  it  extended  for 
its  important  visitor. 

"  The  beauty  of  these  blossoms  seems 
almost  pathetic  to  me  at  times,"  said  he ;  "  for 
if  they  fail  to  allure  a  lover,  they  will  have 
bloomed  in  vain.  I  am  constantly  discover- 
ing some  new  mission  of  beauty.  I  wish  I 
could  comprehend  its  full  significance." 

He  pointed  out  on  his  drawing  the  path 
the  bee  takes  into  the  blossom,  and  how, 
just  before  reaching  the  pocket  of  honey, 
he  rubs  against  the  pistil  and,  uncapping 
it,  allows  the  pollen  to  escape  and  fall  upon 
his  head  and  back. 

"  This  pollen  he  must  carry  with  him  to 
the  next  blossom  and  give  it  to  the  waiting 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  265 

stamen.  So  the  union  is  made  from  which 
comes  new  life  and  beauty." 

Mr.  Alexander  would  listen,  only  partially 
comprehending,  pleased  with  his  old  friend's 
interests  and  quite  willing,  on  the  whole,  to 
accept  his  theories  and  beliefs. 

As  the  time  drew  near  for  Hilda's  return, 
he  would  stand  near  his  old  friend  without 
hearing  him.  He  would  look  at  Primrose 
without  seeing  her.  He  would  move  about 
on  'Change,  his  hands  behind  his  back, 
unconscious  of  where  he  was.  He  had 
taken  no  long  walks  this  spring.  If  he 
started  out  with  Mr.  Mott,  he  made  the 
beauty  of  some  near-by  spot  the  excuse  to 
go  no  farther.  He  dozed  in  his  office  chair, 
in  his  rocker  on  the  porch.  Primrose  now 
and  then  found  him  in  the  summer-house 
asleep.  He  did  not  go  to  the  convent  to 
bring  Hilda. 

"  It  is  not  necessary  now,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  am  needed  here ; "  but  in  his  own  heart 
he  grieved,  for  he  wanted  to  go  and  knew 
that  he  dared  not.  He  would  sometimes 
shake  his  head  and  admit  to  himself  that 
life  was  almost  over,  but  in  the  presence  of 
others  he  would  sit  very  straight,  even  when 


266  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

he  dozed.  The  moment  his  head  drooped, 
he  would  wake  with  a  start  and  look  about 
him.  Primrose,  noticing  this,  generally  sat 
with  her  back  to  him  so  that  he  could  renew 
his  nap.  She  did  not  leave  him  much  to 
himself,  for  she  felt  that  he  did  not  like  to 
be  alone. 

All  this  she  had  written  to  Hilda,  so  when 
she  came  she  was  prepared  for  these  changes. 

"  Uncle  Minot,"  cried  the  girl,  with  a  rush 
of  tenderness,  as  he  met  her  at  the  train, 
"  Uncle  Minot,  I  am  home  at  last.  Did  you 
miss  me  this  long  extra  week  very  much  ? 
I  will  never,  never  leave  you  again." 

She  could  not  say  enough.  Often  since 
the  memory  of  the  asylum  had  been  recalled 
to  her  she  had  seen  the  tall,  strange  woman 
from  Dakota  before  her,  and  had  escaped 
from  the  terror  she  had  then  felt,  over  and 
over.  Every  day  some  new  memory  of  her 
Uncle  Minot,  of  Primrose,  her  Uncle  Chris- 
topher, and  the  garden  had  come  to  her. 

Mr.  Alexander  tried  for  a  moment  to 
receive  her  with  a  stately  affection,  the  sort 
of  courteous  tenderness  he  thought  due  to 
a  beautiful  woman;  but  before  he  knew  it 
his  arms  were  around  her,  and  he  was  say- 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  267 

ing,  in  a  husky  voice,  "  My  little  Hilda,  my 
own  little  one  !  " 

He  leaned  heavily  on  her  shoulder  as 
they  went  to  the  carriage.  He  no  longer 
attempted  to  conceal  his  age  from  that 
moment,  but  openly  betrayed  his  feebleness 
and  dependence  on  her.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, forget  any  possible  attention  he  might 
pay.  He  never  took  her  driving  without 
sending  her  a  new  parasol  or  gloves  or 
a  bunch  of  long-stemmed  roses  to  carry. 
Every  afternoon  when  he  came  to  the 
garden  he  bent  over  her  hand  and  kissed 
it.  He  would  bring  her  new  books  and 
listen  to  her  read.  They  would  sit  with 
Primrose  and  Mr.  Mott  in  the  evening, 
and  the  longest  silences  were  their  most 
intimate  communions. 

One  day  Mr.  Alexander  said :  — 
"  I  am  growing  stronger  again  every  day. 
Perhaps   by  August    I    could   take   you    to 
Europe.     Would  you  and  Primrose  like  to 

go?" 

Hilda  hailed  this  suggestion  with  delight. 
Primrose  saw  her  pleasure  and  sighed. 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Minot,"  said  Hilda,  "  Edna  and 
Polly  want  to  go  this  summer,  too.  I  will 


268  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

write  to  them,  and  perhaps  they  can  go 
when  we  do." 

Mr.  Alexander  brightened  with  the  pleas- 
ure it  always  gave  him  to  delight  her. 

"Write  to  them  at  once,"  he  said,  "and 
invite  them  to  go  with  us  as  your  guests." 

"You  mean  yours,  dear  uncle.  How 
happy  I  shall  be." 

"  No,  Hilda,"  he  replied,  "  nothing  is  mine. 
All  that  I  had  is  yours." 

Hilda,  of  course,  comprehended  nothing  in 
this  statement  but  the  love  that  it  revealed. 
His  voice  and  manner  touched  her  deeply, 
and  the  prospect  of  giving  her  friends  such 
a  pleasure  added  to  her  emotion.  She  went 
to  him  and  gave  him  a  kiss,  and  it  was  worth 
more  to  him  than  all  the  wealth  he  had  given 
her. 

But  Mr.  Alexander  had  more  motives  than 
one  in  this  trip  to  Europe.  He  had  noticed 
how  every  one  looked  at  Hilda  as  she  drove 
with  him.  Beautiful  she  was,  and  she  would 
certainly  be  noticed  wherever  he  might  take 
her.  But  here,  in  his  own  home,  where 
every  one  knew  him,  there  was  an  added 
cause  for  wonder  and  curiosity.  Men  might 
stare,  perhaps,  in  Paris  or  London  or  Berlin, 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  269 

but  they  could  not  ask  him  who  she  was  nor 
seek  to  make  him  introduce  them  by  riding 
by  his  carriage  in  the  park,  and  seeking 
adroitly  to  include  her  in  their  conversation 
with  him. 

Since  Hilda  had  appeared  in  her  maturity, 
and  the  fame  of  her  beauty  and  inheritance 
had  crept  abroad,  he  had  been  at  first  aston- 
ished and  then  annoyed  by  the  multitude  of 
his  friends.  Women  whom  he  had  once 
known  and  forgotten  wrote  him  invitations 
to  their  receptions  and  lawn  parties,  their 
yachting  trips  and  coach  rides,  always  clos- 
ing with  a  gracious  request  that  he  bring  his 
niece  with  him.  And  the  sons  of  these 
women  tipped  their  hats  to  him  with  obtru- 
sive politeness.  They  stopped  him  on  the 
streets  and  asked  his  advice  concerning 
investments.  Mr.  Nathan  met  him  one  day 
as  he  was  walking  with  Hilda,  and  said 
bluntly :  — 

"  Is  this  your  niece,  Mr.  Alexander  ?  We 
were  sorry  not  to  see  you  at  our  little  affair 
last  evening.  My  boy,  Willie,  wants  to  meet 
her.  You  know  Willie?  He  is  with  the 
Second  National.  My  only  son,  you  know." 

All  these  things  worried  and  even  fright- 


270  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

ened  him.  He  began  now  to  feel  something  of 
the  terror  of  the  city  that  had  once  been  Mr. 
Mott's.  It  seemed  to  have  its  thousand  eyes 
on  Hilda,  and  a  thousand  greedy  hands  were 
reaching  for  her.  He  would  take  her  away 
if  the  trip  killed  him. 

Now,  why  did  Primrose  sigh?  Ah,  that 
was  her  secret,  —  a  secret  she  had  kept  for 
almost  a  year. 

"  Primrose,"  said  Hilda,  when  they  were 
alone,  "you  don't  seem  pleased  at  the 
prospect." 

"  Don't  I  ?  Well,  now,  you  know  I  could 
not  go.  What  would  your  Uncle  Chris- 
topher do  ?  He  would  cook  himself  a  mess 
of  tulip  bulbs  some  day  in  place  of  onions,  or, 
worse  yet,  he  would  forget  to  eat  at  all." 

"  Oh,  Primrose,  can't  you  go  ?  " 

"  But  never  mind,  Hilda.  It  will  be  a  fine 
thing  for  you  to  go.  You  will  write  to  me, 
and  I  shall  really  be  there,  too.  Have  I  not 
been  through  ten  years  of  school  with  you  ? 
I  would  rather  see  Europe  through  your  eyes 
than  my  own.  I  thought — "she  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  then  said  carefully,  "  I  had 
anticipated  something  else ;  but  that  will  wait, 
perhaps,  till  you  come  back." 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  271 

"  What  was  it,  Primrose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  nothing  but  dreams.  Just  one 
of  the  old  foolish  dreams,  I  guess." 

"  They  were  not  foolish.  Dear,  good 
Primrose,  why  do  you  talk  so?  You  have 
been  so  queer  since  I  came  home.  I  don't 
seem  to  know  you  any  more." 

"  Have  I  ? "  said  Primrose,  anxiously. 
"  Then  I  won't  be.  Do  you  remember  how 
we  got  ready  for  the  convent  ?  What  a  sew- 
ing and  a  shopping  we  had  ?  Well,  that  was 
nothing  to  what  we  must  do  now.  You  will 
take  three  great  trunks  to  Europe,  and  we 
will  begin  at  once  to  fill  them." 

That  night  Primrose  looked  from  her  own 
room  toward  a  window  across  the  garden. 
The  shutters  were  closed,  and  what  she  saw 
there  to  cause  her  to  look  so  long,  and  to 
sigh  so  often,  it  would  be  difficult  to  guess. 
Her  sleep  was  troubled,  too.  She  kept 
repeating  in  her  dreams,  "  Twelve  pairs  of 
stockings  and  two  little  shoes." 

But  Hilda  did  not  go  to  Europe.  In  the 
midst  of  all  the  enchanting  preparations  the 
plan  was  ended.  She  had  spent  the  day  with 
Primrose,  sewing.  She  had  gone  for  a  walk 
in  the  garden  at  twilight  alone.  When  she 


272  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

returned,  she  sat  like  one  in  a  stupor.  Mr. 
Alexander  spoke  to  her  without  noticing  the 
change,  but  she  did  not  hear  him.  When  he 
spoke  again,  she  looked  up,  and  without 
answering  him  went  to  him,  and,  sitting  by 
him  on  the  floor,  said  gravely:  — 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  Europe  any  more. 
Dear  Uncle  Minot,  please  let  me  stay.'* 

In  spite  of  his  fears  and  projects  this 
pleased  him.  To  have  her  contented  with 
so  little  when  she  might  have  so  much,  to 
have  her  happy  just  with  him,  her  Uncle 
Christopher,  and  Primrose,  seemed  more 
than  he  had  hoped  for. 

Primrose  went  up  to  her  room  and  looked 
across  to  the  window.  The  blinds  were  open. 
The  sunlight  was  still  upon  it,  the  shadow  of 
the  opposite  buildings  was  just  beneath. 

"Oh,"  said  Primrose,  trembling  with  a 
great  happiness,  "she  has  seen  Pierre.  She 
has  seen  Pierre,  and  she  knew  him." 

When  she  went  below  she  found  Hilda 
reading  to  her  Uncle  Minot.  She  went 
almost  shyly  to  her  and  kissed  her  hair. 

"  You  look  so  happy,"  said  she,  "  I  could 
not  help  it.  And  I  am  happy,  too,  for  I  did 
not  want  you  to  go." 


A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  273 

That  night  Hilda  was  the  wakeful  one. 
Primrose,  when  she  went  to  her  room,  saw 
a  little  red  light  in  Pierre's  window.  She 
placed  one  like  it  near  her  own,  and,  sitting 
by  it,  looked  into  the  enclosure. 

For  almost  a  year  Primrose  had  known 
for  whom  the  rose-bush  had  been  named. 
On  a  day  of  the  last  autumn,  just  after  Hilda 
had  returned  to  the  convent,  she  was  sitting 
in  her  enclosure  by  the  fountain  under  Hilda's 
own  maple,  for  the  sun  was  hot.  This  tree 
had  been  nine  years  planted,  and  threw  a 
comfortable  shade.  All  that  grew  in  this 
enclosure  seemed  to  know  why  they  were 
there,  and  to  take  a  pride  in  the  paradise  they 
formed.  Plants  may  not  understand  the 
language  of  those  who  talk  to  them  and 
caress  them,  but  they  as  surely  feel  the  pres- 
ence of  those  who  love  them  as  do  we,  and 
they  respond  to  it  in  their  own  way,  even 
more  freely.  Just  as  an  old  lady's  sitting 
room  comes  in  time  to  absorb  her  personality 
and  to  breathe  it,  so  this  enclosure,  in  its 
green  carpet,  its  green  hedge,  its  thrifty  trees, 
its  flowering  shrubs,  its  cosey  summer-house 
hidden  with  vines,  its  fountain  and  brook, 
whispered  and  bloomed  and  murmured  of 


274  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

its  mistress  who  was  here,  and  of  its  absent 
one.  Nothing  here  could  forget  Hilda,  for 
Primrose,  who  was  the  enclosure's  soul, 
thought  constantly  of  her. 

As  she  sat  there,  then,  on  this  autumn  day, 
she  seemed,  as  she  was,  the  loved  mistress  of 
a  knowing  garden,  contented  and  at  home. 

Presently,  she  heard  some  one  say, "  Would 
you  mind  if  I  jumped  down  there? " 

She  looked  up  and  saw  a  youth  of  some 
twenty  years  watching  her  from  a  small  bal- 
cony about  fifty  feet  away.  The  blinds  back 
of  this  balcony  had  never  before  been  open, 
and  she  had  long  ceased  to  think  of  the 
window  and  that  she  might  sometime  have 
a  neighbour. 

The  youth  for  a  moment  seemed  like 
an  apparition.  As  she  looked  at  him,  he 
said :  — 

"  Don't  refuse  me.  I  am  tired  and  hot,  and 
you  look  so  cool  and  comfortable." 

Primrose  smiled,  for  there  was  something 
in  his  handsome,  wistful  face  and  slender 
figure  that  pleaded  with  her  more  appeal- 
ingly  than  anything  he  could  have  said. 

"  Can  you  do  it  ? "  she  asked,  dropping  her 
book  in  her  lap. 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  275 

He  laughed,  and  climbing  over  the  rail  of 
the  balcony,  dropped  lightly  to  the  ground. 

"  I  learned  to  get  out  of  a  window  when  I 
was  a  boy,"  he  said.  "  I  had  to." 

"  Do  you  live  there  ?  "  asked  Primrose,  and 
a  touch  of  the  surprise,  not  unmixed  with 
dismay,  she  could  not  help  feeling,  sounded 
in  her  voice. 

"  It's  my  studio.  My  little  prison.  I  had 
to  have  one  somewhere,  I  suppose.  I  selected 
this  one  because  of  your  garden.  Do  you 
mind  ? " 

She  did  not  answer  him  then,  but  she  sus- 
pected in  her  heart  that  she  did  not.  When, 
a  few  days  later,  she  knew  his  name  and 
where  he  came  from,  and  that  he  must  have 
been  a  playmate  of  Hilda's,  she  no  longer 
suspected  —  she  was  sure.  He  was  the  rose- 
bush Pierre :  the  dream-boy  of  her  Hilda. 

She  tried  to  question  him  about  the  island, 
but  he  frowned  and  became  restless  when  it 
was  mentioned.  She  wanted  him  to  speak 
of  Hilda,  but  he  did  not.  It  required  but  a 
thought  backward  to  deepen  the  shadow  of 
his  dark  eyes,  and  bring  there  a  look  of  fear 
and  resentment.  When  he  could  speak  to 
her  of  the  books  they  read,  of  Father 


276  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

L'Amora,  whom  he  loved,  or  of  the  things 
he  would  some  day  see  and  paint,  his  face 
became  passionate  and  eager.  He  was 
happy  more  often  to  stretch  out  on  the  grass 
and  be  silent. 

It  soon  became  evident  to  Primrose  that 
she  must  say  nothing  to  him  of  Hilda,  nor 
to  Hilda  of  him.  Mr.  Alexander  must  not 
notice  his  frequent  visits.  Here  was  a 
romance  which  her  hungry  heart  craved,  but 
must  not  ask  for.  If  Hilda  still  remembered 
him,  she  might  meet  him,  perhaps;  but  it 
must  not  be  her  doing.  She  never,  for  a 
moment,  thought  they  could  meet  and  not 
love  each  other.  She  would  keep  her  secret 
and  wait  and  hope. 

"  Pierre,"  she  said  one  day,  "  could  you 
think  I  was  whimsical  or  absurd  ? " 

"You,  Primrose?  If  I  told  you  what  I 
think  of  you,  you  would  call  me  very  bold." 

Primrose  laughed  and  blushed. 

"You  are  like  the  lover  I  have  always 
wanted,"  she  said,  "  and  I  shall  not  tell  you, 
either,  that  you  have  come  too  late.  There 
is  a  fairy  in  this  garden,  Pierre,  who  can  do 
everything.  Some  day,  perhaps,  I  shall  come 
to  you  young  and  beautiful,  and  then  —  and 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  277 

then  —  you  must  really  love  me.  Now  don't 
speak,  for  I  mean  it.  You  will  see.  But, 
now  listen.  You  must  not  come  here  any 


more." 


"  I  must  not  ?     Why  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  will  know  that,  too,  some- 
time. You  must  believe  me,  Pierre,  and  do 
just  what  I  say.  Sometimes,  in  the  evening, 
you  may  come.  I  have  thought  of  a  way  to 
arrange  it.  At  night  this  enclosure  is  yours 
as  much  as  you  wish  it.  If  you  want  me, 
put  a  little  chamber  lamp  with  a  red  globe 
at  your  window ;  and  if  I  see  it  and  cannot 
come,  I  will  put  one  in  mine." 

Pierre  was  looking  at  her  with  wide  eyes. 
She  smiled  and  said :  — 

"  It  is  all  very  mysterious,  I  know,  but  I 
cannot  help  it.  You  have  seen  Mr.  Alexan- 
der? Well,  he  must  not  notice  you  here, 
that  is  all." 

During  the  winter  and  spring,  Primrose 
kept  Pierre  strictly  to  this  arrangement. 
Sometimes,  when  she  met  him  in  the  even- 
ing, she  would  remind  him  of  the  fairy  and 
the  miracle  she  might  perform,  and  so  seri- 
ously that  Pierre,  fanciful  as  he  was,  began 
almost  to  expect  it.  He  was  inclined,  in  his 


278  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

sober  moments,  however,  to  suspect  that  Mr. 
Alexander  was  the  lover  of  Primrose,  and,  as 
absurd  as  it  may  seem,  this  thought  brought 
him  a  pang  of  curious  jealousy. 

All  this  mystery  was  increased  when,  in 
June,  Primrose  sent  him  away. 

"You  must  go  somewhere  for  a  month. 
Please,  Pierre,  don't  look  so  distressed.  If 
you  wish  to  make  me  happy,  go  away,  but 
come  back  in  a  month.  Perhaps,"  she  added, 
smiling,  and  yet  seriously  enough,  "while 
you  are  gone  the  fairy  will  appear." 

So  Pierre  went  away.  When  he  returned, 
he  went  to  his  window  and  looked  into  the 
enclosure.  He  saw  no  one,  and  unpacked 
his  easel  and  put  his  unfinished  picture  upon 
it.  He  stood  for  some  time;  then,  with  a 
motion  of  impatience,  took  it  and  broke  the 
canvas  on  his  knee. 

"  I  will  never  do  it,"  he  said,  "  never.  It 
will  never  satisfy  me  without  the  sound  of 
the  bells,  and  I  cannot  get  that." 

He  returned  to  the  window  and  looked 
out.  The  garden  seemed  very  alluring  and 
tender  in  the  twilight.  Suddenly  a  young 
girl  came  slowly  through  the  opening  in  the 
hedge  and  walked  through  the  enclosure. 


A  PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  279 

He  watched  her  just  for  her  beauty,  won- 
dering who  she  was.  Then  she  looked  up 
and  stopped  and  gazed  at  him.  He  seemed 
to  see  both  wonder  and  recognition  in  her 
eyes.  He  thought,  too,  that  she  murmured 
his  name.  He  stepped  to  the  balcony;  a 
feeling  almost  of  fear  held  him  there.  In  a 
moment,  she  turned  and  walked  quickly  from 
the  enclosure. 

"  Good  heavens ! "  he  said,  "  am  I  dream- 
ing? "  He  thought  of  the  fairy  and  laughed. 
But  both  the  beauty  of  the  girl  and  her 
strange  conduct  had  bewitched  him  so  that 
even  such  a  miracle  did  not  seem  so  absurd. 
He  put  his  red  light  near  the  window  and 
waited.  It  grew  late,  but  no  one  came.  At 
nine  o'clock,  he  saw  an  answering  light  at 
the  window  opposite. 

"  She  cannot  come,"  he  said.  He  won- 
dered if  there  had  been  a  wedding  in  his 
absence:  if  Primrose  had  been  married.  He 
could  not  believe  this. 

As  he  stood  in  his  balcony,  the  scene  be- 
neath him  did  not  tend  to  solve  the  mystery 
it  held,  for  even  the  coldest  eye  cannot  see 
reason  so  well  by  moonlight,  and  more  things 
than  facts  might  well  grow  in  such  a  garden. 


280  A  PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

Pierre's  eye  was  never  cold.  It  had  seen 
strange  things  even  by  day,  and  the  world 
had  not  yet  convinced  him  that  the  impos- 
sible is  not  all  that  is  real. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IF  ever  there  was  a  youth  of  twenty  who, 
through  April,  May,  and  June,  was  not  in 
love,  I  am  happy  to  have  missed  him. 

Pierre,  already  in  love,  beheld  in  this  twi- 
light apparition  the  outward  form  and  sub- 
stance of  his  mistress  —  the  embodiment  of 
his  age,  his  nature,  and  the  season. 

As  the  moon  rose  and  filled  the  garden 
with  ghostly  shadows,  his  imagination  kept 
running  to  his  heart  with  tales,  and  his  fancy 
whispered  of  mysterious  delights. 

There  was  scarcely  a  sound  now  in  the 
garden.  Only  the  low  voice  of  the  fountain 
and  the  fitful  rustling  of  leaves  could  be 
heard.  The  two  red  lights  were  out.  The 
balcony  was  now  in  darkness,  for  the  moon 
had  passed  over  it,  and  the  shadow  of  the 
building  was  creeping  across  the  enclosure. 
The  light  still  flooded  the  portion  nearest 
the  cottage  and  now  into  this  came  Hilda. 
She  passed  through  the  opening  of  the  hedge 
281 


282  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

and  stopped  a  moment  to  look  and  listen. 
Unconscious  of  the  two  watchers  at  their 
windows,  she  moved  slowly  through  the 
moonlight  to  the  little  bench  under  her  ma- 
ple near  the  fountain. 

In  the  soul  of  a  boy  like  Pierre,  Love 
builds  a  shrine.  All  that  is  loveliest  to  him, 
whether  mountains  or  a  meadow,  a  valley  or 
a  garden,  a  woodland  or  a  field,  has  formed 
his  holy  land.  If  there  has  been  little  of 
affection  in  his  life,  this  shrine  is  the  more 
beautiful  and  sacred ;  for,  hidden  in  some 
secret  bower,  it  is  for  him  a  promise  of  all 
that  he  has  missed.  Here,  too,  grow  the 
vines  he  has  gathered  by  a  look  in  his  pil- 
grimages ;  here  do  the  birds  that  have  van- 
ished return  to  make  their  eternal  abode  with 
him.  It  is  a  place  of  bloom  and  perfume 
and  foliage,  of  silence  and  melody,  of  count- 
less lights  and  shadows. 

Pierre  saw  Hilda  enter  the  enclosure  and 
hesitate,  as  if  the  sound  of  a  falling  leaf 
might  frighten  her  away.  He  almost  ceased 
to  breathe,  and  wondered  fearfully  if  the 
shadow  on  his  balcony  would  conceal  him. 
He  saw  her  move  across  the  lawn  and  take 
her  seat  under  the  maple.  He  watched  her 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  283 

as  one  who,  visiting  his  sacred  bower  by 
chance,  finds  that  the  shrine  is  no  longer 
empty,  that  his  divinity  has  come.  He  did 
not  desire  to  approach,  but  remained  in  a 
silent  ecstasy,  a  mingling  of  reverent  devo- 
tion and  expectant  delight,  looking,  hoping, 
fearing  to  move  lest  she  should  vanish  as 
mysteriously  as  she  came. 

The  light  falling  through  the  tree  played 
upon  her  white  dress,  her  face,  and  hair  as 
the  leaves  moved.  She  could  not  have  told 
why  sometimes  her  head  drooped  and  her 
eyes  closed,  what  brought  the  smile  to  her 
lips,  nor  why  it  was  followed  by  a  sigh. 
She  did  not  know  that  she  was  again  sitting 
in  a  place  of  Pierre's  building,  nor  that  he 
was  watching  her.  And  yet  she  must  un- 
consciously have  felt  his  presence,  and  heard 
the  sounds,  and  caught  the  perfumes  of  his 
bower.  Sometimes  her  memory,  groping 
among  shadows,  sought  to  bring  back  the 
island  and  the  child  Pierre.  She  found  her- 
self, at  the  end  of  every  revery,  gazing  upon 
the  face  of  the  miniature.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  she  had  seen  in  the  eyes  of  this 
youth  the  same  spirit  that  she  had  followed 
in  the  boy,  that  she  now,  unquestioningly, 


284  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

accepted  him  as  the  embodiment  of  her 
dreams.  She  was  not  so  conscious  of  the 
fact  that  she  had  seen  him  at  the  window 
overlooking  the  garden  as  of  the  impression 
the  miniature  had  made.  She  had  looked 
long  and  closely  upon  the  portrait;  her 
glimpse  of  his  face  at  the  window  had  been 
fleeting.  She  was  not  sure  now  that  she 
had  really  seen  Pierre.  It  was  of  him  she 
was  thinking,  and  not  of  his  nearness.  She 
was  again  feeling  the  stress  of  his  desires, 
listening  for  the  far-off  voices  that  were  call- 
ing him.  It  was  as  if  she  again  stood  behind 
him  in  the  newer  fields  of  his  dreamland, 
pleading  with  the  birds  to  come  to  him, 
hoping,  with  a  deeper  passion  than  before, 
that  they  would  gain  what  he  was  seeking. 
For  the  face  of  the  miniature  was  both  strong 
and  wistful. 

Pierre  watched  from  his  balcony  until  he 
could  no  longer  see  her,  for,  with  the  pass- 
ing of  the  moon,  the  shadows  deepened 
under  the  tree.  But  he  did  not  move.  He 
knew  that  she  was  still  there,  and  the  dark- 
ness had  a  new  tenderness  and  beauty  for 
him.  When  he  saw  her  faintly,  by  starlight, 
pass  again  over  the  lawn  and  through  the 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  285 

opening  of  the  hedge,  he  took  a  flute  from 
a  table  just  inside,  and,  putting  it  to  his  lips, 
sent  its  low  notes  into  the  garden.  He  did 
not  dare  call  this  the  message  of  his  heart  to 
her,  but,  since  this  it  was,  it  came  to  her  as 
such.  She  stood  near  the  cottage  listening, 
and  realized  again,  with  a  fluttering  of  her 
heart  and  a  strange  trembling  of  her  limbs, 
that  he  was  there,  so  near  that  she  might 
speak  with  him.  This  thought  put  her 
dreams  to  flight.  She  went  to  her  room 
and,  standing  a  moment  before  her  mirror, 
blushed  at  her  own  blushes,  and  smiled  half 
in  shame  and  half  in  wondering  pleasure  into 
her  own  glowing  eyes. 

To  those  who  have  forgotten  their  youth 
and  their  first  love,  it  may  seem  strange  that 
for  nearly  a  month  Pierre  was  contented 
with  an  occasional  glimpse  of  Hilda  in  the 
garden  with  Primrose  during  the  day,  or 
with  watching  her  when  she  came  there 
alone  at  night.  Had  he  questioned  Prim- 
rose, she  would  not  have  known  what  to  tell 
him.  This  was  too  much  her  own  romance. 
Had  he  spoken  to  her  of  his  love,  she  would 
have  blushed  and  trembled  as  if  listening 
to  a  confession  of  passion  for  herself.  She 


286  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

would  have  bared  her  own  breast  to  the 
world  rather  .than  have  revealed  to  him 
whatever  of  Hilda's  heart  she  might  know. 
During  the  day  they  were  in  the  garden 
together,  reading,  sewing,  talking,  dreaming, 
and  attending  to  whatever  needed  their  care. 
Sometimes  Pierre  stood  by  his  window  watch- 
ing them.  Both  Primrose  and  Hilda  knew 
when  he  was  there,  but  they  did  not  speak 
of  him.  Had  Primrose  not  seen  him,  she 
would  have  known  when  he  appeared  by 
Hilda's  covert  glances,  her  heightened  colour, 
her  too  evident  effort  to  appear  unconscious. 
Pierre  also  began  to  see  that  she  knew  when 
he  was  watching  her,  and  he  became  more 
eager  and  yet  more  fearful. 

At  night  Primrose  remained  within.  When 
Mr.  Alexander  had  gone,  Hilda  would  enter 
the  enclosure  alone.  As  the  weeks  passed 
Pierre  gained  sufficient  courage,  watching 
her  from  his  shaded  balcony,  to  serenade 
her  with  his  flute.  He  ventured  this  the 
first  time,  fearing  that  he  might  offend  and 
frighten  her  away.  He  was  intoxicated  with 
happiness  when,  as  he  played,  she  remained 
motionless  on  her  seat  by  the  fountain.  She 
did  not  seem  to  hear  him,  it  is  true,  but  he 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  287 

could  feel  her  near  him ;  he  could  watch  the 
little  white  being  that  had  somehow  drawn 
to  herself  all  the  mystery  and  beauty  of  the 
night,  and  pour  out  to  her,  through  the  ten- 
derest  tones  of  his  instrument,  all  that  he 
felt  so  passionately,  but  could  have  found  no 
words  of  his  own  to  express. 

As  the  glorious  June  nights  passed, 
these  serenades  became  more  intimate  and 
tender.  Hilda  was  becoming  for  him  not 
only  the  saint  of  his  shrine,  a  priestess  of 
beauty,  but  a  sweet  human  being  as  well, 
with  lips  and  eyes  that  might  perhaps  make 
answer  to  his  confessions.  He  noticed  now 
how  white  was  her  throat,  how  the  colour 
came  and  faded  in  her  cheeks,  how  her  hair 
curled  away  from  her  forehead  and  about 
her  little  pink  ears.  As  he  realized  that  she 
was  really  listening  to  him,  he  began  to 
speak  to  her  of  herself  in  what  he  played,  to 
plead  with  and  even  to  caress  her. 

All  the  garden  seemed  to  find  a  pleasure 
in  these  sounds.  A  bird  would  move  in  its 
nest,  chirping  to  its  mate  with  something  of 
the  old  April  sentiment.  Sympathetic  mur- 
murs passed  from  bush  to  bush,  from  tree  to 
tree,  and  the  wind,  moving  over  the  flowers, 


288  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

was  made  the  post  for  countless  tender  mis- 
sives. 

Christopher  Mott,  standing  in  his  garden 
on  these  nights,  looked  sometimes  toward 
Primrose  at  her  window,  at  Hilda  by  the 
fountain,  at  Pierre  on  his  balcony.  He  moved 
along  his  gravel  paths,  listening  to  the  mel- 
ody. He  paused  now  and  then  under  a  tree 
or  near  a  bush,  smiling  at  the  sudden  stirring 
of  their  leaves,  or,  intercepting  one  of  the 
missives  of  the  flowers,  he  would  say,  "  Yes, 
my  children,  it  is  true  —  the  voice  of  love 
comes  very  sweetly  through  a  flute." 

In  fact,  the  one  voice  that  had  long  been 
lacking  was  at  last  sounding  in  the  garden. 

Mr.  Alexander,  from  whose  kindly  nature 
this  beauty  had  sprung,  was  the  only  one 
unconscious  of  it  all.  The  Eden  itself  was 
visible  to  him,  but  he  knew  nothing  of  that 
which  had  brought  to  it  the  fulfilment  of  its 
destiny,  without  which  it  must  have  remained 
lost  even  to  those  who  dwelt  within  it.  He 
who  should  have  been  the  lord  of  the  harvest 
was  now  unconsciously  threatening  it  with  a 
long  delay.  When  he  entered  the  garden  he 
brought  with  him  a  blighting  shadow. 

Pierre  had  learned  that  Hilda  was  his  niece 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  289 

and  that  this  was  the  secret  of  his  banishment. 
Primrose  became  more  and  more  troubled  by 
thoughts  of  him  as  she  watched  the  unfold- 
ing of  her  romance.  Hilda  was  oppressed 
by  a  singular  misgiving  as  she  became  con- 
scious that  the  coming  of  her  Uncle  Minot 
was  no  longer  a  delight  to  her.  She  did  not 
admit  even  to  herself  any  reason  for  this. 
She  was  apprehensive  of  something  unknown 
when  the  time  approached  for  his  coming. 
She  was  restless  if  he  brought  her  into  the 
enclosure,  and  preferred  to  read  to  him  on  the 
porch.  Her  heart  reproached  her  for  these 
feelings,  and  she  sought  to  silence  it  by 
increased  attentions  to  him.  But  even  as 
she  read  to  him  or  walked  by  his  side,  as  she 
smiled  or  caressed  his  hand,  she  knew  that 
she  was  waiting  only  for  him  to  go. 

One  day,  as  they  were  sitting  on  the  porch, 
Mr.  Alexander  felt  the  chill  of  the  shadow. 

"  My  dear,"  he  said,  "  if  you  will  excuse  me, 
I  will  go  for  a  while  into  the  sunlight." 

He  walked  slowly  down  the  path  and 
stopped  by  the  glass  experiment  house.  The 
heat  within  tempted  him.  It  would  be  good 
for  his  old  bones.  He  saw  Mr.  Mott  work- 
ing over  a  heap  of  compost  and  called  to  him, 


290  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

"  Christopher,  I  am  going  in  here  for  a  sun- 
ning." 

"  Good,"  said  Mr.  Mott.  "  I  will  join  you 
presently.  Be  careful  to  close  the  door  after 
you,  for  one  of  the  Pogonias  is  in  bloom." 

Mr.  Alexander  smiled  and,  going  inside, 
sank  into  a  seat  with  a  sigh  of  pleasure.  He 
was  in  the  very  centre  of  the  flower  garden 
and  all  about  him  were  beds  aflame.  Here  was 
a  little  field  of  deep  blue  larkspur  surrounded 
by  patches  of  purple  asters,  golden  coreopsis, 
crimson  poppies,  and  richly  variegated  petu- 
nias. There  were  beds  of  four  o'clocks  and 
sweet  williams,  marigolds  and  heliotrope, 
phlox  and  mignonette.  They  tossed  their 
showy  heads  in  the  wind  above,  and  among 
them  moved  bees  and  butterflies  and  a  count- 
less multitude  of  insects.  The  sound  that 
came  to  him  was  like  that  of  a  distant  carnival. 

"  It  is  strange,"  he  thought,  "  very  strange. 
Some  of  these  bees  must  have  travelled  miles 
to  reach  here.  They  cannot  be  kept  away, 
it  seems." 

He  smiled  at  the  memory  of  his  friend's 
theories.  In  the  midst  of  a  pleasant  fancy, 
his  head  drooped.  The  hum  and  buzz  out- 
side grew  fainter  and  then  more  distinct.  He 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  291 

seemed  to  catch  the  sound  of  laughter,  of 
happy  murmurings,  of  smothered  exclama- 
tions, and  protests  of  delight.  Then  sud- 
denly he  heard  distinctly,  close  by  his  side,  a 
sighing  and  moaning,  a  tiny  voice  murmur- 
ing in  complaint.  He  was  not  surprised  to 
discover  that  it  came  from  the  Pogonia.  The 
delicate  pink  blossom  was  pressed  against 
the  glass,  and  on  the  other  side  was  a  bee 
striving  desperately  to  reach  it.  The  sound 
of  his  body  and  wings  beating  against  the 
glass  was  pitiful  to  hear. 

"  Oh,  oh,"  moaned  the  Pogonia,  "  why  am 
I  here  ?  Oh,  why  am  I  here  ?  " 

It  was  indeed  a  cruel  plight  for  such  a 
bloom.  Better  to  have  kept  her  in  a  cellar, 
to  have  hidden  her  forever  from  the  light 
than  to  have  imprisoned  her  here,  in  the 
midst  of  her  gay  sisters,  able  to  see  them  in 
their  happy  beauty,  to  hear  the  sound  of  their 
laughter,  longing  for  and  yet  deprived  of  the 
lover  even  now  beating  his  wings  against  her 
cage. 

The  thought  of  this  brought  a  feeling  of 
wrath  to  Mr.  Alexander. 

"  Never  mind,  little  one,"  he  said,  "  I  will 
open  the  door.  Your  lover  shall  come  in." 


292  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

His  voice  awoke  him.  He  saw  Mr.  Mott 
approaching,  and  sat  up  very  straight.  Then 
he  laughed  at  his  own  confusion,  and  when 
his  friend  entered,  he  said :  — 

"  Come,  my  old  fogy,  your  theories  have 
got  into  my  dreams.  I  have  been  just  now 
listening  to  the  complaint  of  your  captive. 
Do  you  know  what  it  wants  ?  " 

"  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Mott,  shaking  his  head. 
"  These  experiments  are  cruel.  Shall  I  open 
the  door?  Look  into  this  blossom,  Minot. 
You  see  there  are  no  seeds  forming.  Is  it 
not  pitiful — so  much  beauty  gone  to  waste?" 

"  It  is  wonderful  if  it  is  really  true." 

"  Tell  me  that  you  are  convinced,  and  I 
will  take  this  poor  plant  to  the  garden." 

"  Oh,  I  will  believe  you,"  said  Mr.  Alexan- 
der, smiling  at  the  seriousness  of  his  friend. 
It  was  with  a  beaming  face  that  Mr.  Mott 
took  the  pots  of  Pogonias,  lady  slippers,  and 
petunias  and  set  them  in  the  midst  of  the 
other  blossoms.  As  he  stood  watching  them 
for  a  moment  with  Mr.  Alexander,  he  said, — 

"  Minot,  have  you  ever  thought  of  what 
you  and  Primrose  would  have  done  these  ten 
years  without  Hilda?" 

"  We  should  have  been  very  lonely." 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  293 

"  More  than  that,  you  would  have  been 
almost  useless  —  like  my  Pogonia  bloom,  in 
fact,  without  any  seeds." 

"  To  hear  you  talk,  one  might  think  men 
and  women  grew  in  pots." 

"  They  are  much  the  same.     You  will  see." 

He  looked  up  with  a  curious  twinkle  in  his 
eyes  as  he  added  :  — 

"  There  are  all  kinds  of  bees  in  this  gar- 
den. You  will  see." 

Mr.  Alexander  was  puzzled.  On  more 
than  one  occasion  lately  Mr.  Mott  had  spoken 
in  riddles,  and  there  was,  now  and  then,  this 
same  glint  of  a  secret  in  his  eyes. 

A  few  days  later  as  they  were  again  alone, 
Mr.  Mott  laughed  absently  to  himself. 

"  What  are  you  chuckling  over  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Alexander,  a  little  testily. 

"  Oh,  not  much.  I  was  thinking  of  your 
dream.  Do  you  ever  doze  when  you  sit  with 
Hilda?" 

The  other  turned  away  abruptly.  He 
could  not  understand  this. 

"  Don't  be  angry,"  said  Mr.  Mott,  gravely. 
"Have  you  noticed  no  change  in  her?  It 
might  be  a  good  thing  for  you  to  know  what 
her  thoughts  are." 


294  A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  thoughts  can 
she  have  ?  Don't  you  think  she  is  happy  ?  " 

"  How  do  I  know?  I  can  see,  though,  that 
she  is  a  little  paler  and  thinner  than  before." 

"  Where  is  she  ? "  asked  Mr.  Alexan- 
der, looking  anxiously  over  the  garden.  He 
was  more  disturbed  than  he  cared  to  admit. 
He  walked  slowly  toward  the  house,  but  in 
reality  his  heart  was  filled  with  alarm. 

He  stood  on  the  porch  and  called  to  her. 
When  she  appeared,  he  forgot  everything  but 
his  anxiety,  and  peered  closely  into  her  face. 

"  Hilda,"  he  asked,  "  are  you  happy  ?  " 

Confused  by  the  earnestness  of  his  gaze 
and  the  abrupt  question,  she  dropped  her 
eyes  and  remained  silent.  She  could  not 
answer  him  at  once.  She  felt  suddenly  that 
she  was  not  altogether  happy,  that  she  had 
been  carrying  some  trouble  in  her  heart 
unknown  even  to  herself.  She  knew  that 
tears  were  filling  her  eyes  and  was  ashamed 
of  them. 

"What  is  the  trouble?"  asked  Mr.  Alexan- 
der, now  seriously  distressed.  "  Why  have 
you  not  told  me,  if  you  were  unhappy  ? 
What  more  can  I  do?" 

"Oh,"  said  Hilda,  "you  must  not  be  anx- 


A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY  295 

ious.  Don't  —  don't  look  so,  uncle.  It  is 
nothing  at  all.  I  am  happy,  indeed  I  am. 
I  don't  know  what  was  the  matter  with  me. 
You  took  me  by  surprise,  I  guess  —  that  was 
it." 

She  patted  his  cheek  and  kissed  him  and 
led  him  to  a  seat. 

"  Is  there  any  place  you  would  like  to 
go  ?  "  He  stopped  short,  almost  hoping  she 
had  not  heard.  If  she  wished  to  travel  now, 
she  must  go  without  him.  He  could  not 
take  her. 

Hilda  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said 
softly,  — 

"  May  I  see  the  island  ?  " 

"  What  island  ?  " 

"Where  I  lived  before  you  took  me  — 
before  —  before  my  mother  died." 

The  tears  that  she  had  feared  dropped 
upon  her  cheeks  unnoticed.  Now  that  she 
had  spoken  this  desire  so  long  held  in  secret, 
she  felt  relieved,  and  the  memories  that  her 
own  words  brought  made  her  unmindful  of 
the  tears.  There  was  a  long  silence.  This 
request  had  caused  Mr.  Alexander  the  great- 
est astonishment.  But  the  alarm  of  the  reve- 
lation passed,  and  he  began  to  find  a  comfort 


296  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

in  it.  She  did  not  wish  to  leave  him.  He 
could  still  be  near  her.  And  then  it  was 
this  very  affection  and  remembrance  of  what 
she  loved  that  had  held  her  close  to  him. 
Had  it  not  been  for  this,  he  must  have  lost 
her  when  she  first  went  away  to  the  convent. 
So  when  he  spoke,  he  said  cheerily,  "  If  it  is 
a  bright  day  to-morrow,  we  will  go."  In  a 
few  moments  he  continued  quietly,  "  Do  you 
remember  Jean  Pilliod  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Is  he  still  there  ?  " 

"Old  Jean  is  dead.  He  left  the  island 
to  his  grandson,  Pierre,  who  leases  it  to  a 
neighbouring  farmer.  No  one  lives  there 
now.  Alphonse  and  his  wife  went  back 
to  France  where,  I  believe,  they  inherited 
some  property  from  an  uncle." 

"And  my  mother?" 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  Dear  uncle,  don't  think  because  I  cried 
a  little  that  I  am  unhappy.  I  do  not  grieve 
for  her.  It  is  not  that.  I  sometimes  think 
of  her  beauty  and  of  her  love  for  me,  and 
the  tears  just  come.  But  you  must  not 
mind.  I  know  that  it  does  not  matter 
where  she  lies,  for,  as  Uncle  Christopher 
would  say,  all  the  earth  is  good,  and  that, 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  297 

wherever  her  soul  or  body  may  be,  none  of 
their  beauty  can  be  lost." 

That  evening,  Mr.  Alexander  remained 
later  than  usual.  He  had  certainly  never 
been  conscious  of  Hilda's  restless  desire  for 
him  to  go,  but  on  this  occasion  he  felt  her 
mood  of  increased  tenderness,  and  it  made 
him  linger  with  her.  She  wanted  him  to 
stay ;  she  felt  that  she  could  not  love  him 
enough  for  all  his  goodness  to  her.  It 
brought  her  a  great  happiness  to  again  be 
able  to  sit  near  him  and  be  content.  When 
he  went,  she  accompanied  him  to  the  gate 
and  watched  him  until  he  disappeared  up 
the  dark  street.  And  yet  all  this  while 
there  had  been  something  left  unsaid.  She 
walked  slowly  back  to  the  house.  She 
stopped  a  moment  by  the  porch  and  then 
passed  on  to  the  enclosure.  Why  had  she 
not  spoken  to  him  of  Pierre?  Her  tears, 
her  pallor,  the  drooping  of  her  head,  and 
the  burden  in  her  heart  were  not  all  due 
to  her  memory  of  the  island  and  her  mother. 
These  were  but  the  excuses  made  to  herself 
and  to  him. 

It  is  singular  how  long  a  maiden  will 
dream  of  her  lover  without  naming  him  as 


298  A   PRINCESS  OF  ARCADY 

such,  even  to  herself.  For  almost  a  month 
Pierre  had  wooed  her  from  his  balcony,  and 
she  had  listened.  Her  whole  being  was 
throbbing  to  the  melody  of  his  flute  and 
to  the  cry  of  his  heart,  as  it  had  come  to 
her  on  the  night  winds.  Her  lips  alone 
were  mute.  Had  she  known  the  nature 
of  her  own  emotions,  she  might,  perhaps, 
have  revealed  them  to  Primrose.  She  could 
have  talked  to  her  of  Pierre,  had  his  name 
once  passed  between  them.  But  the  thought 
of  him  rilled  her  with  alarm  when  in  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Alexander.  Our  instincts 
may  be  but  the  memories  of  which  we  are 
unconscious.  The  incident  of  the  rose 
vine  had  passed  from  Hilda's  mind,  but  her 
heart  had  retained  the  impression  it  had 
made. 

And  yet,  as  she  went  into  the  enclosure 
that  night,  she  was  happier  than  she  had 
been  for  a  long  time.  She  had  given  ex- 
pression to  some  of  her  secret  desires  and 
emotions,  and  was  a  little  nearer  to  a  com- 
prehension of  them  all. 

Pierre  had  been  waiting  for  her  with  all 
the  apprehension  lovers  feel  at  even  the 
smallest  delay.  For  them  absence  is  not 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  299 

a  matter  of  time  —  it  is  absence.  Each 
moment  is  an  eternity,  filled  with  disaster. 

When  he  saw  her  enter,  he  thrilled  with 
delight.  His  eyes  shone  and  filled  with 
tears.  He  might  never  have  seen  her 
again,  and  she  was  here.  He  put  the  flute 
to  his  lips,  and  sent  her  a  greeting  so  tender 
and  so  joyous  that  she  raised  her  eyes,  and 
looked  toward  him  smiling. 

It  was  a  wonderful  night  for  both.  The 
late  moon  had  passed  entirely  from  view 
when  Hilda  looked  once  again  toward  the 
balcony,  and  murmuring  a  very,  very  faint 
"  Good  night,"  returned  to  the  house.  When 
she  had  gone,  Pierre  looked  down  into  the 
shadows  and  up  to  the  stars,  wondering, 
confused,  half  delirious.  She  had  looked  at 
him ;  she  had  smiled  upon  him ;  she  had 
whispered  "  Good  night." 

In  certain  natures  great  beauty  is  alone 
sufficient  to  work  a  kind  of  madness.  To 
describe  what  Pierre  saw  as  he  stood  on 
his  balcony,  one  must  know  what  shapes 
the  wind  can  assume,  what  spirits  brood  in 
the  night.  For  three  hours  he  had  been 
sitting  in  the  moonlight,  his  mistress  in  a 
garden  beneath  him.  He  had  looked  into 


300  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

her  eyes.  He  had  sought  in  vain  for  some 
word  to  speak  to  her,  and  had  trembled  with 
the  fear  that  one  might  escape  him.  He 
had  taken  his  flute  from  his  lips,  and  sighed 
again  and  again.  Its  notes  were  too  sad 
or  too  cold.  There  was  no  sound  in  it 
so  sweet,  so  tender,  so  passionate  as  his 
thoughts.  There  was  no  voice  anywhere 
to  speak  for  him.  This  was  surely  all  mad- 
ness, but  he  who  has  not  experienced  it  has 
remained  too  sane. 

Dawn  found  Pierre  far  from  the  city.  He 
had  come  across  the  fields,  and  was  walking 
near  the  river  toward  Maumee.  He  scarcely 
knew  where  he  had  been,  nor  why  he  was 
there.  It  had  been  an  aimless  wandering 
under  the  starry  sky — the  ever  pathetic  effort 
of  the  feet  to  follow  the  free  fancies  of  the 
soul.  He  sat  on  the  high  bluff  overlooking 
the  island  and  watched  the  day  break.  His 
face  was  pale  from  his  vigil.  He  had  for- 
gotten his  hat,  and  his  hair  had  been  handled 
roughly  by  the  wind. 

The  shadows  faded  from  the  earth.  The 
sky  became  bright  and  clear.  The  birds  in 
passing  tossed  him  a  song.  The  island  with 
its  ripening  fields  and  flowering  borders  lay 


A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY  301 

beneath  him,  warm  and  glowing  in  the  sun- 
light. His  face  relaxed,  he  began  to  see 
once  more  the  things  about  him.  He  felt 
his  weariness.  When  the  Angelus  sounded 
from  the  villages,  he  closed  his  eyes  and  lis- 
tened. The  sound  brought  him  peace.  He 
walked  on  slowly  now,  for  the  sun  was  grow- 
ing warm,  and  he  was  sleepy.  He  descended 
the  path,  found  his  boat  moored  to  its  stake, 
and  pushed  into  the  stream.  He  drifted  with 
the  current  until,  reaching  a  little  inland  curve 
where  a  few  willows  grew  on  the  bank,  he 
pushed  into  their  shade.  Wild  grape-vines 
grew  about  the  trees,  climbing  to  their  tops 
and  hanging  in  festoons  from  the  branches. 
There  is  no  sweeter  perfume  than  that  of  the 
flower  of  the  wild  grape.  These  vines  were 
now  in  bloom.  Pierre  cut  an  armful  of  twigs, 
covered  with  leaves  and  blossoms,  and  spread 
them  in  his  boat.  He  rolled  up  his  coat  for 
a  pillow,  stretched  himself  on  his  bed,  and 
slept.  His  wild  fancies  of  the  night  did  not 
trouble  his  sleep.  They  had  passed  with  the 
stars  and  the  shadows.  His  dream  was  at 
first  but  the  echo  of  the  morning  bells.  He 
listened  to  them  with  the  old  unmindfulness 
of  his  boyhood.  He  was  again  lying  on  his 


302  A   PRINCESS   OF   A^CADY 

back  in  the  grass,  watching  the  clouds,  again 
carrying  stones  for  his  city  on  the  hill.  Some- 
times in  his  dreams  he  looked  away  down  the 
river,  but  with  none  of  the  old  desire  to  go 
there.  He  wished,  rather,  that  what  he 
missed  would  return  to  him.  He  watched 
the  coming  of  the  boat,  no  longer  seeing  in 
it  a  means  of  escape,  but  hoping  with  all  his 
lonely  heart  that  it  would  bring  to  him  again 
what  it  had  taken  away.  The  dream  passed, 
and  he  slept  long  and  soundly.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  he  awoke  with  a  start,  and,  sitting 
up  quickly,  glanced  with  eager  expectation 
toward  the  shore.  He  saw  Hilda  under  the 
willows,  looking  at  him  in  surprise  and  con- 
fusion. 

Mr.  Alexander  had  driven  with  Hilda  to 
the  island.  During  the  ride  up  the  river  he 
had  scarcely  spoken.  His  life  was  passing 
before  him  again.  He  had  lived  in  dreams 
and  busied  himself  with  concerns  that  hardly 
interested  him.  And  his  theories,  what  were 
they  ?  He  shook  his  head  and  wondered  at 
the  passing  of  their  importance.  His  dreams 
had  been  both  sad  and  sweet.  His  theories 
had  been  nothing.  He  looked  at  Hilda. 
He  had  once  hoped  never  to  see  the  shadow 


A   PRINCESS   OF  ARCADY  303 

of  trouble  in  her  face.  The  shadow  was 
there,  but  so  soft  and  faint  that  it  only  gave 
a  tenderness  to  her  beauty.  He  would  not 
alter  it.  He  thought  of  his  friend  Mott  and 
the  plants  he  had  liberated.  The  recollec- 
tion brought  a  smile  and  a  sigh. 

"  She  shall  be  free,"  he  thought.  "  Her 
life  is  her  own.  I  can  only  love  her." 

He  marvelled  more  and  more  at  the  silent 
independence  of  her  life.  It  had,  indeed, 
been  her  own ;  but  he  also  realized  that  her 
affection  had  been  a  magnet,  drawing  to  it 
and  retaining  only  the  good  and  the  beauti- 
ful. 

When  they  were  opposite  the  island,  he 
called  to  a  man  in  the  field  to  carry  them 
over.  Then  he  left  her  to  go  her  way,  for  he 
found  it  difficult  to  walk.  He  found  a  place 
under  a  tree  where  the  grass  was  thick  and 
the  view  was  good.  Here  he  would  wait 
for  her.  He  tried  to  follow  her  in  his 
thoughts.  Did  she  remember  the  day  when 
he  had  first  seen  her?  It  seemed  to  him 
like  yesterday.  He  saw  her  smiling  at  him 
across  the  table,  he  found  himself  trying  to 
untangle  the  phrases  that  had  become  in- 
volved. He  smiled  at  the  little  legs  stretch- 


304  A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY 

ing  to  keep  step  with  his  own.  The 
afternoon  passed.  He  stood  up  and  looked 
over  the  island.  A  little  stroll,  he  thought, 
would  take  the  stiffness  from  his  body.  And 
so  he,  too,  came  to  the  willows  a  full  hour 
after  Pierre  had  awakened,  to  find  Hilda 
there. 

He  was  surprised  to  hear  voices,  and  still 
more  surprised,  when,  looking  through  the 
grape-vines,  he  saw  Hilda  in  the  boat  with 
Pierre.  At  first,  it  was  only  his  amazement 
and  his  anger  that  prevented  an  instant  inter- 
ruption of  the  pretty  scene.  As  he  looked, 
however,  his  mood  softened.  It  is  true  that 
this  youth  was  holding  the  hand  of  his 
Hilda;  but  there  was  so  much  happiness  in 
their  eyes,  and  such  a  glow  in  their  faces, 
they  seemed  so  oblivious  to  the  world,  and 
so  well  acquainted  with  each  other,  that  he 
could  only  look  and  wonder.  In  a  few 
moments  he  began  to  understand.  She 
called  him  Pierre,  and  as  they  talked,  and 
talked,  it  was  all  "  Do  you  remember  ?  "  and 
"  Do  you  remember  ?  "  Had  he  still  waited 
and  listened,  he  might  have  heard  even 
sweeter  words,  for  they,  too,  were  spoken. 
But  he  did  not  wait. 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  305 

"  She  shall  be  free,"  he  said.  "  No  theory 
of  mine  can  bring  such  a  bloom  to  her  cheek, 
such  a  light  in  her  eye.  She  shall  have  the 
free  sunlight  and  air  and  what  love  life  has 
for  her."  ' 

She  found  him  at  twilight,  apparently  doz- 
ing under  his  tree. 

"  You  have  had  a  good  sleep  ?  "  She  tried 
to  look  as  though  nothing  had  occurred. 

"Just  dozing  a  little.  It  has  made  you 
happy  to  come  here.  I  can  see  it,  my  dear. 
Don't  hide  your  happiness  from  me."  He 
looked  at  her  wistfully  and  hoped  she  would 
tell  him,  but  she  did  not  know.  She  vaguely 
felt  the  change  that  had  come,  however,  and 
was  happy  to  sit  close  to  him  on  the  drive 
home,  and,  holding  his  hand,  think  of  her 
meeting  with  Pierre,  and  of  the  night  still  to 
come. 

"She  cannot  tell  me,"  he  thought,  "and  it 
is  my  own  fault." 

That  evening  he  took  Mr.  Mott  into  the 
garden  and  told  him  what  he  had  seen. 

"And  now,"  he  said,  "there  is  but  one 
thing  to  do.  Let  us  send  for  Pierre." 

"  Do  you  remember,  Minot,  why  I  have 
never  kept  a  hive  in  my  garden  ? " 


306  A   PRINCESS   OF   ARCADY 

"Why  is  that?" 

"  Because  the  bees  come  to  me." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  the  other. 
"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  I  have 
been  speaking  of  Hilda,  and  you  do  not 
listen.  I  say  we  must  send  for  Pierre." 

Mr.  Mott  laughed,  and  Mr.  Alexander 
grew  red. 

"  Come  with  me,  Minot.  You  shall  see 
what  I  mean." 

He  led  his  friend  to  the  enclosure,  and, 
pointing  to  the  window  and  the  balcony, 
said :  — 

"  Every  night  a  fine  bee  is  there  hum- 
ming. Do  you  understand?  It  is  Pierre." 

"  Pierre  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  long  ?  " 

"  Ever  since  her  return." 

"Hilda?" 

"  Every  night  she  is  here  in  the  garden." 

Mr.  Alexander  turned  slowly  away. 

"  What  a  fool  I  have  been  !  " 

"  My  friend,  she  has  come  to  a  fine 
flower." 

"  But  it  was  not  through  me." 

"  No  ?     But  you  have  done  all  that  the 


A   PRINCESS  OF   ARCADY  307 

best  of  gardeners  could  do.  You  provided 
the  good  soil  and  shelter  from  the  storm." 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  "  said  the  other,  with 
a  choke  in  his  voice ;  but  he  was  comforted. 

That  night  Primrose,  at  her  window,  fol- 
lowed the  progress  of  her  romance  as  far  as 
the  first  kiss,  then  silently  closed  the  blinds. 


